He asked me then
as we stared at the strawberries
lit in the fluorescent grocery store lighting
adjacent in their plastic coffins
red and ripe
clearly evesdropping

“do you love me?”

I hadn’t ever thought about it before
but I guess I did.

“but are you in love with me?”

their green stems were a reminder of home
their severed ends a scar of the violence they endured
yellow seeds clinged to their polished red bodies
the small taste of bitter to remind you,
nothing can be that sweet all the time

I cocked my head to one side
They had me captivated
I wanted their taste
Their raw delicious flesh

$5.99?

****. Too much.



“No.


                                              I’m not in love with you.”




Oh, thank God.

The blueberries are on sale.

i... i'm finding myself bound to having
a green fetish...
a green fetish for gomorrah...
Zoe Saldana....
no please... no cinnamon skins...
no copper skins... no brass...
no rust... none of the chocolate skin...
nothing milky-way...
i'm in it for the green...
perhaps ol' me porky skinned -
hapless white when i scortch via
pink is all evesdropping via
the glaswegian route via
carntyne west and haghill -
north barlanark and easterhouse south:
otherwise better to import foreign
perspectives... from salty Sou -
and d'lan...
but i still have green fever...
i'm tired of liking the copper,
the cinnamon,
i'm tired of burnt butter antics...
just give me the alien green ***-whip...
how else will ever befriend the chance
to escape this oriental onslaught
of the... less than courteous
mr. Hiab and happen via Mrs. Gipsy
and the latest: motiff in ****** of Kan-tow!
bow.. ****** better bow...
it's still a fetish for green...
you paint me as pink as,
what i really am...
paint me crimson curious...
emerald skin aged nearing my 60s
and with a furious nose...
you know what comes across as most disagreeable
to me?
essex girls teasing a suntan in winter...
with prokofiev's oranges...
i wouldn't lament... milktooth
milk skin of some sun deprived
aristrocratic wannabe st. petersburg beauty...
when you can look
at the veins like maps of roads
that extend outside the curriculum
of a "nation"...
but the green, the green...
i'm just so into the green skin!
i'd **** a green skinned girl...
prior to the copper cinnamon and the cumin /
coriander powder earthling...
sign me up for green skin
and ****** ***** of feeding a suckling of
an octopus humanoid morph...
god knows what else will wash up
with the next tsunami...
this is my wave...
this is my skateboard and this is my ramp's
worth of a reef...
and this not not anything...
that otherwise comes with
the "molotov" cocktail of
interracial breeding... the casual Cassie...
perhaps the porky skinned beauties
of casual oh-so...
forgot to keep their: dear diaries...
and i somehow demanded myself
to keep mine...
however you look at it:
big fetish for green.