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wandabitch May 2019
Wet and creamy
Underneath
Sweat and cotton
Bike ride hot
And salty
my juice box
honey suckled
Ripe and hairy

Pass the straw
sip me up
Drink
wandabitch May 2019
And the rain hits me
When I’m biking through the city
Hot pavement smells and lucid dreaming
No luck when your luck runs thin
And your bank account is stolen
And fraud feels like running me down
Into the ground like the stank of the street
But I can brave the storm to find warmth among friends. Need to call a lawyer to make the pigs holler and lightning cracks again. Drinking up IPA so I can gain some liquid courage. It’s just another tavern on st. Charles.
What a day
wandabitch May 2019
You pull me in-and-out like ciggerete smoke on my tongue
Tear in my eye.
Queen Anne, the porch, the oak, look grim. My belly flips every time I see you. French doors rattle with street noise. The plants look thirsty, brittle, sorry.
The seed did not sew. Custom Taylored to fit my size. Growing pains in every stitch. April fools is such a *****.
wandabitch May 2019
Underfoot
—rats run
April flowers
Bloom—
Sun weplt
—engorged
Black cherry
Melody—so full of nothing.
Belly ache—
—rotten heart
Burst—
Beast of loving
wandabitch May 2019
Female energy
Building, each
Bike ride pumping
Up my solid frame.
Sun so hot it sticks to your skin
A tecate kind of thinking.
Caught you inside my piece of mind
But my libido is soaking—and my tan burns.
wandabitch May 2019
I feel like I’m steeping inside out of my mind
While you keep stride
Just getting on another bike ride
—peddling self doubt away—
Onto the levee to breathe
O’l Mississippi
Stares back at me
Coughing on my tongue
To bite you out
wandabitch May 2019
I’ve got sun kissed skin from that
Hot *** tongue
Lick my lips like a cherry swollen and melted on the pavement floor.

Pick myself up from the strings of that guitar
My thighs are bruised with the thought of you
Played like an ***** on Sunday mornin

And I can’t read music.
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