I am a commercial
With a missing leg oh this
A story I’ll tell loudly
Smiling
My original Poetry, Artwork and Photography
Small but powerful thoughts and tidbits of feeling. Mostly unedited and “raw,” faintly sentimental, resentful and other strong-and-fast states of being. Things one might scrawl out on the back of an exam or a napkin, meant to be reflected upon for exactly what they are and nothing more.
I am a commercial
With a missing leg oh this
A story I’ll tell loudly
Smiling
You had a secret name fermenting
Under my tongue. I smiled and
It went yellow in my mouth.
A budding unseen burial
Ring shinnied silver tones
In my bone where you were
This is what you do in
Tiny doses. My medication
Never beamed old history lights
Or pinstripe lights your fingertips
Through a womb of dust
Stirred a new pigment.
I cupped the back of my hand neatly in your corners
Like a wave.
If your blue eyes had a breeze they would,
The cool wash up through
Force
Stone dank and dark underdown
Archaic stairsteps
My soundproof head capsuled
In the moss
Until you touched it
Neatly unfurling and so quickly
Untangling in an inhale like ink in water—
After curling inside the couch for
2.5 days I clicked your description
you were called a Black Witch Moth
and you were filling my whole room
the light was aimed at a dark glass
somewhere behind the white door
I prayed you away.
Me I’ve got no way
to circle my laugh out my body
I’ve got no way
to flourish from cracks in my skin
Me I’ve got no way
my fingers your bristling highlights
unless we sweep into the street
the night
in cars and preparing ourselves for screen eyes