Each finds
their own salvation
or not,
Nima said.
Birds fed
in her hair.
Her eyes ******
in black holes,
gave birth to dreams.
I sat beside her,
drank black coffee,
smoked menthol cigarettes,
heard Coltrane
on the HiFi.
How deep
does my soul go?
She asked,
what is *** after all?
I inhaled and looked
at the cavern
of her small
firm *******
Cold turkey,
she said,
rather have
a cool fix.
I sat exhaling
menthol smoke;
the Coltrane runs
on saxophone
caught in my ears.
I think I’ve spiders
in my ******
she said;
big black ones
with hairy legs.
I closed my eyes
supping on
the menthol smoke,
sensing Coltrane's sound
invade my soul.
Nima lay back down,
legs spread,
black beetles
and insects
inside
her drained out
head.
May 30, 2014
May 30, 2014 at 12:04 PM UTC
Each finds
their own salvation
or not,
Nima said.
Birds fed
in her hair.
Her eyes ******
in black holes,
gave birth to dreams.
I sat beside her,
drank black coffee,
smoked menthol cigarettes,
heard Coltrane
on the HiFi.
How deep
does my soul go?
She asked,
what is *** after all?
I inhaled and looked
at the cavern
of her small
firm *******
Cold turkey,
she said,
rather have
a cool fix.
I sat exhaling
menthol smoke;
the Coltrane runs
on saxophone
caught in my ears.
I think I’ve spiders
in my ******
she said;
big black ones
with hairy legs.
I closed my eyes
supping on
the menthol smoke,
sensing Coltrane's sound
invade my soul.
Nima lay back down,
legs spread,
black beetles
and insects
inside
her drained out
head.
A BOY AND GIRL IN A HOSPITAL WARD IN 1967.
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