I'm doing well, and you?

urushiol Poems

Hands twist and tremble underneath the sharply waning moon Eyes fatigued and sagging Neurotransmitters eroded and ambitions annhilated Fleshy cheek interiors raised and bumpy from anxious teeth biting I am ready to run with the pistol pointed at my feet! You greedily guzzle honey with the gusto of a great grizzly impervious to the stab wounds of wasps swarming your head Heedless and hasty - Soon I will be more than thorny paws fumbling over slippery stones, Soon I will have ambrosia on my tongue and tearing through vines I am king oh humor me with your spittle flecked lips flapping PLEASE! I am queen of my demons, guardian of my devils and proprietor of my hell holes. Slide down my vertebrae into the vortex of sirens wailing Come and let's get lost together - take my hand