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Apr 2017
i like it when we drink

the scent of sweet alcohol,
rockets burning through my chest's atmosphere
my head in outer space
i watch you
set aside your branches
as i take pleasure in your fire.

narrow your already narrow lids,
turn the edges of your lips,
tilt your head as your hair slips.
lured and leashed,
that smirk.

*Oh God, that smirk.
uncharacteristically posting non-sad poems who am i
Anna Starr
Written by
Anna Starr  21/NYC
(21/NYC)   
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