swimming in a pool
laced with tragedy
my feet kick only as a reflex of my
pounding, deafening heartbeat,
thudding all over my body,
leaving ripples around me in the water.
i am a wet dog.
i am wearing concrete boots.
i am the child who can not swim
but enters the water anyway,
overcome by morbid curiosity.
i am drowning for my art
i am drowning for my art
i am drowning

a contradictory cocktail of adrenaline and melatonin
dance lightly underneath my skin
and you move in time with
my heartbeat.
petal lips dance between my hips and
the seratonin
and dopamine
kick in
and the
oxytocin, endoprhins,
you are an aphrodisiac on legs
and oh god
oh
oh
oh

i have been writing risque poetry and i have been putting honey in my tea and i have not washed my hair in a week and i am a mess on legs.

i have been reading bukowski and i have been cutting off my fingernails and i have even taken my pills every morning but i still feel enigmatic.

i have been wearing silk ******* and i have been smoking cigarettes and i have been writing my ******* guts out and
oh god
i miss you
i miss you
i miss you

tickle my fancy
slip past my *******
delve into the pieces
of me in all senses
that make me
a woman; the woman i am.
the velvet, the silk,
the warm honey and milk
dripping and falling in time
with your breath.

she smelt of forget-me-nots
and moved as if some unseen force
propelled each step.
with sandpaper knuckles
and rose petal palms,
her sunshine hair fell over her
sunspotted shoulders
and with every step she swayed to
some unheard tune,
crackling like vinyl through a wooden stereo.
with chrysanthemum lips and ice-cap teeth,
her honey-drenched voice slipped through
to carry the most god ****** unforgettable
hello
i will ever hear.

you used to be my yellow paint,
the warmth in the pit of my stomach;
but your toxicity has got to me
and now you are just *****.

we will get ****** up
say words we should not say,
then we will make out
and lay in bed all day