mama warned me about the missiles
whose streaks resemble
pasty fingers of thoughts with
ill intentions.
jawlines layered with grassy residue,
a time bomb—
tick tock ticking throughout
a timely test.
silly me,
sentimental turnstiles turned back in time and
an eruption of vivid green
internally bleeding.
melancholy magnolias blooming
behold.
shadows capture my
gentrified façade
in our yellowed mellowed atmosphere.
morning bells
delight the Sapphic sleeper,
but not
the creature of the night.
enchanted amongst
the vulnerable,
beautiful,
beyond,
belief.
citadels built from bedframes,
trailing magazines
of livid dreamers
and adolescent ideas—
not an isolated incident.
mama warned me about clasping wrists
and bruised collarbones
replaced with titanium plates.
dandelion fuzz fraught with
five o’ clock shadow,
a delightful daze—
distraction.
fluid familial instinct,
virtually incapable of
****** affection.
riotous, rugged, risky.
backbone crooked
rickety.
knuckles lined up in reverse
chronological,
no,
alphabetical,
no,
circumstantial
order.
petrifying wisps of morning’s light,
sacrificial intents of starry nights.
bruised knees and white thighs
bruised words and white lies
bruised hellos and white goodbyes.
superficial daydreams
mistaken for junkyard radiators
and the little engine
that could not.
singing birds shot out of the twilight sky,
and the red rush of accomplishment
tip-toeing towards the truth.
skipping stones disturb
the salmon’s
cove while
my butterfly’s monarchy
is out of order.
mama warned me of backfiring cannons
with delayed reactions,
laughing at the purple pigeons
who can sing the swan’s song.
cyclical and cynical
cried the weary modem.
awe inspired anticipation
set against relations.
table tennis played
with a chocolate chip,
curled eyelash confusion,
and I can’t touch my toes.
mama warned me about big guns
that don’t fire,
about broken rigs
that insist you go higher.
a projectile clock haunts my memories.
forbidden animosity plagues
the higher order,
consistently screaming
take me! biblically.
a rocket launcher versus
your catapult,
a millennium of thought
discredited.
stained tablecloths of mutiny
and sin.
an uproar of the masses threaded
between frosty fingers, and
his lullaby?
her nightmare.
a song of Peaceful Persuasion.
mama warned me about loose ends
and splitting ties,
or was it split ends
and loose ties?
belligerent invitations disguised as
fruitful farewells.
a thought for the reckoning—
mistaken mothers made merciless,
warning bells, or
morning bells?
flawed and broken tattooed
on ivory skin.
ebony lost and confused,
cracks against its own nature
wind the winding wind,
explicitly innocent—
masochism foretold.
evergreen amongst the sunrise,
pitiful playthings
strewn across the floor.
****** screams
piercing my skin,
a call for help seldom answered—
tectonic plates.
**mama didn’t warn me with her words.
