how do you still make my heart
fester and swell and thump thumpity
jump to the brim of my throat
like a frog waiting to belch it’s
morning croak croakity—
choking back his thick, velvety shot of tarish espresso
knowing **** well there was nothing else in the world
he wanted to drink drinkity, let
sink sinkity into the lining of his stomach
to drown out the fluttering butterflies
of self afflicting lust. tsk.

and now i can’t even look your way,
without feeling like I took a step
steppity
LEPT too far, and i missed the lilypad
by an inch!
so of course, I splashed splashity
crashed into its chill— still surface,
distorting it and rippling my surroundings
still while being submerged
in this silly, suffocating. pond i call
delusion.

w.c.