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Dec 2014
I woke up and craved a foreign touch.
Foreign, forbidden, unforgettable.
Blue eyes that cut through diamonds
and the ribs of a skeleton.
Blue and orange and electric shades of fluorescent lights
and accidentally sitting cross-legged and delusional in the passenger seat.
I craved a touch I didn't know and didn't want,
and felt the peculiarity fill me like tar,
and I realized sometimes it's addicting to cut hearts open just to watch them bleed for you.
Mauri Pollard
Written by
Mauri Pollard
368
   Juneau and Ocean Blue
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