Hand out the window in the heat-soaked Summer.
Your hair a mess like always.
The Jackson ******* kind of mess I love.
Your smile stings—no, injects me,
full of that sweet syrupy goodness,
that you call true love.

Your skin seemingly melts,
with each wet kiss on your body so svelte.
Your eyes deceptively tease,
urging me to be the one to please.
Your touch surreptitiously ignites,
my deepest desires of the night.

I've heard my fair share of concertos,
yet they sound like a cacophony of sounds,
compared to the symphony of,
cries, moans, and whispers,
that are the product of our *******.

My love for you is like,
the interstate on which we drive.
Asphalt.
Gravel.
Sand.
Down to the last grain.
You can't find where it ends.

Undo my buttons
and let the soul breathe
for the body to freeze
or scorch! I am done
with each attempt to see
with wistful bras
and weeping knickers
Sulked by sore heads
that lay on pvc pillows
And aluminium beds
Mouths that drink blood
chew mud
Lips that never kissed the moonlight
Eyes that never waved to the sunbeam
All talk of love to redeem
this mass of jagged insanity
“La vie est un sommeil,
l'amour en est le rêve."
Undo my buttons
and caress all the scars
it took to believe
I am as dead
as my cigars.

.
In a flower bed
Of rose and thorn,
Scarlet and green,
As we stem into one
Growth under blankets
White with joy, blue
As blood, we pluck
The petals left for us,
We tangle in thickets,
Moisted lips of heaven
Of clover and of daisy,
Milky as the wet stars,
Honeyed in the night
Hive and sumptuous
Joining, like clouds,
Opening above, we
Drench ourselves, cry
In drops, teary rains
That break, inwards,
Eyes, entwining with
Hot limbs unknotted
Till there is the spent
Wonder of skin scent,
Steeps of salt and sea,
Each leftover of touch
An outcast, a grieving.
.

I creep towards a flicker of light
No sheets to keep me from the callous cold
My bare flesh introduced to the February night
Transfixed by the light, my eyes swim and glitter
I rush away from the old creaking bed, away from that shell.
Where he gifted me memories of dust, dark and bitter.
I flee my partner in crime, my everlasting disease
As he fast sleeps, ready to make love to my brain
But I rush and feel no rush between my legs increase.
Stars wave and a bird flies home, I sigh in relief.
For I too go home, somewhere under the sky.
As I smile to spring away, I sense something in disbelief.
A pair of hands gripping my arms and neck.
Just to believe it was over, oh heck!

Dripping clothes resting against sins
Lastly taken when feeling the heavens
Sometimes taken with a lazy pace
Absorbing the beauty her sins held.

Galaxies inbetween excitement and mirth
Anomalous explicit moving against buds
Of the flower desired by dangerous eyes
Carefully exploring every sweet side of lies.

Dark lips moving with unusual fervor
Elusive sounds to the ears of heated hell
White flaws coming out of the dark road
Belts dropped and the beast roar it's might.

Slapping skins of sinful adventurers
Grunting the pleasure of punishments
Of the Eden they betrayed in the soft bed
They belong to the creation of flawed heaven.


S t i. t c h

You Can’t Get Me To Lick Your Bones If You’re Never Going To Eat My Phone


I don’t need for the reading of your head
sideways. There’s no book of your gazes in
drugs I fluff myself in front of mirrors to the heavens and become elated, transfixed; I never become ‘indisposed’

you may shift your skin in those clothes I
would never spell nor the words I would never wear across the neck
I will never throw your prose across this
lubricious pottery wheel that governs the

awesome succubus’ coffin of Publisher
Clearing House dactylic feet, I have
a licentious groove and yet I never am
wont for those syllabic toes you push into

the mouth of me. Slippery soot-covered balms of the dancers jocular knot, so I say:
See Spot Run
away from that face of your clock
the beats of your Machiavellian speech

I am understudy to none
In cahoots with only the **** of my soup
kitchen, my idyllic sous chef he takes paradise and irrumates these

suture-battered stars covered in
elementary window wish dust
to poke your fingers with kisses
and undo your shoelaces even

while you you’re weary of becoming
the flat-footed ballerina. There it is
I’ve said it. Beware beware beware beware
when taunting me in your under wares

For I eat lines rare
Petite writhings of flair

Aching for our two souls to intertwine
My heart on your chest, your heart on mine
Opening like a blossom on a vine

Longing for hands to discover me,
Roaring to a flame of ecstasy
And with time, growing inside me

Fingers imprison fingers, fingers imprison flesh
I am weakness beneath your bated breath
Lay claim to my clay, lay claim to my breast

I am yours with every command, each and every kiss
Till my maiden land, fill me with every inch
I can be your *****, I can be your *****

Heat, sweat, electricity traveling in between
A valley full of nectar, consuming delicacy
Make me your subject, I am your Queen