Sarina

Sarina May 2014

torture ****
is the kind I make for you, the
desperate clawing plea
for you
to choose to ******* to me.

May 2014

JM

The ***** dark nothing of my now is ******* you in the tomorrows

I smell *** everywhere I go.
In the air,
On cafe counters,
At bus stops and on sidewalks.

I taste it in your coy smiles
and backward glances
while he wasn't looking.
Sand and salty skin,
lips with no teeth behind them.
Blood rushes and swollen parts.

I know I will ruin you
from the inside out.
This is how cancer feels.
Love isn't always soft as sighs,
slow and careful cobweb touches.
Sometimes it's mindfucks,
riding crops and hematoma.
Ask napolean about the pyramids
and you will hear the
words of a true ******.

These words, just cockroach
legs swarming around the rotting
chicken bones underneath
your stained mattress,
ancient and ugly,
feeding,
defiling,
consuming.

This now we are sharing,
my now of writing,
your now of reading,
are they the same?

Another day alone
as I decay into
a great big
pile
of nothing
and
somewhere
out there
is a ****
that will
finally
make me
happy.

This now..

There is something more to this...

Sarina May 2014

azul

there is a phrase – “sea of stars”
and I think
of it as the sort of oasis that could be above earth
or beneath the soles of our feet.

blue blue blue azul

where the air brushes my hair like snowfall,
where water pulls at my skin
like

a new lover. like him on our first night together,
still unsure of which
words were
too intimate to use – there came to be
no talking, so much less desperate than we
are now. I could grab flesh
and remain aloof, as the ocean is.

something
is always glistening in the sky or the sea

I wonder if I got closer, if it would look like your
hide
after twirling your fingers against
my tongue. the belly
of your fingerprints moving in my mouth.

Sarina Apr 2014

inner space

I am thinking that maybe there is no such thing
as outer space,
there are even planets inside our
bodies
made of minerals and
water. I want to believe that nothing can be empty –
that inner space exists instead,
gravity exhales
so that the sun and stars will sag above us.

Sarina Apr 2014

heavy heart

I am fat
and he wants to see my clavicles, my thick
white skin is bunched
up onto even paler bones. I
wish to hide them
as they are proof that I can be broken –

and he has a cigarette
between his teeth,
moving it like a **** before it enters me.

Dragging it into my deepest places,
the hollow
of my bruises, empty me
so he can see just what keeps my shoulders
from splintering under the weight

of my heavy
head. My heavy everything –
he sears away the flesh and it feels as if I
am evaporating like milk.

Sarina Apr 2014

relapse

a relapse
is like reheating coffee on the stove
hoping it tastes so stale
you won't want to drink it anymore

but even then, I
will pour it on my skin and
hate myself for days.

Sarina Apr 2014

geodes (unfinished)

I once wished
that we first met as friends, rather than
lovers,
that I knew your tongue

rolling against your teeth to
speak something honest before I felt it curling
around my skin.

Ever since,
I have tried to stay separate – I wanted

to paint portraits of the
earth, of luminaries and geodes,
but every picture looks like my body after ***
with you,
little crystals of you

cornering the emptiest parts of me.
I part as a flower blooms,
two years

and I realize I must believe in falling stars

now.