When you think you're well-rested

This morning's coffee is fire on the tongue - too hot - and let's not speak of the orb of fire in the sky, for it is most certainly too hot and too bright, for that matter. Just the same the taste of yesterday in my mouth is "too" something, stale.






            Lip brushes ear
This shower will surely make welts on my skin, I rub this soap on me like a healing salve. It's warm and tempts me - to think that maybe - just maybe. I should have rolled over, made sleep my lover.






            hands pull at breasts
A towel this heavy is a modern marvel! It could stretch halfway from here to China and we could ride it like a magic carpet, but we might get lost in its folds and could never find each other again              I hate to think what I'd do all alone someplace halfway to China, never a strong swimmer.

        




              taste of salty skin
The mess we made in exploring the corridors of this house I am picking up, trying to hold it all in two arms, dropping (just about) one thing for every new thing I add. The one thing I asked of you, when you said you would stay, is that you don't leave a trail for me to follow, the one thing! I'll be late because of it, that makes me spill coffee on my shirt as I turn to go and - this morning's too-hot coffee, the too-bright sun, and the taste of yesterday too-stale, just so, this feeling is "too" something, bitter.






              door closing without a goodbye
Imagining blowing my hand through the plaster of this wall, pulling loose the bloody chips and throwing them at your feet, just thinking of it! You claim that as I lick the carnal lust from my lips, succubus! I am thinking of ways to drain you of yourself because I am, unfeeling -






              hazels melt into jades
Souls grew pregnant, swelling with the emotive learning - each others smells, lifting burdens, muscles bulging from their weight. Wondering now that I've seen it, if all you planted was






             an empty seed, your own insecurity