I am the eight point eight percent aluminum
in the earth’s crust,
crumbling beneath blonde conversation
My mind sweeps the memories under
its dungeon’s heavy entrance again
A broom made of abrasion

Mint lily pads placid on
the soft surface of sea
we hopped across like infant frogs
while the sky poured
boxed sangria and tied cherry stems

but you wouldn’t know,
you hide inside under
blankets knit of thick wool
probably crimson like the scarlet creases of
your chapped lips
that once stained the wine glass
with the evil eye charm on
Friday nights
and
ate up midnight with
fleeting thoughts and heart-to-hearts

Awaken to blonde dialog
Ruffled lashes blink lovingly beneath sleepy sheets
I love those lashes, you know
Painted with the sight of a similar prescription
purposely gripping my throat and
handcuffing me to the tiny
poppy pores of your aura
I will give you permission to
bleed onto my skin for
as long as you need
I’ll kiss your sweet pink cheek,
feed you flower petals
and their sister leaves green

It seemed too dark inside your mouth to see
when you were choking on a tiny stick with
smiley face candy
Lost within deep concrete caves and
living for the dirt underneath my leather toes
which allow me still to dance
my legs found gold forgotten in their apricot flesh
grazing fuzz across your breath
Buzzing south on your tongue to
pull out the innocence

Sinking, sulking, suffering
curling like a scissor kissing ribbon
tell me again,
what’s that lipstick pigment you wear?
what is that language you’ve majored in?
Lately I have had no taste buds left to
peel off and place on your blonde tongue