06-11-2015, 01:58 PM
I came without you last night;
two fingers curled like parentheses between my thighs where I left you.
& autumn became just as fleeting. I
remember red as if it were currency;
borrowed from womanhood and the kiss that claimed us one.
I remember how you fed me oranges
& I tongued the seeds while my fingers played in your hair. I
crawled inside your analogy and made love to you as if I were an eggshell;
small and brittle, unable to stand the concrete weight of your hands.
I raise the hem of my skirt;
my womb has gone back to war beneath ripe cotton. I
try to draw a line between us
& peel back the blisters of what you left inside of me;
the color of a thousand tight throated blossoms when it bleeds.
I bought oranges today
& picked dandelions to place on my breasts where your skin still covers me. I
smell of sandalwood and citrus-
I snuff out my cigarette in the fruit's flesh and gnaw on the rind.
two fingers curled like parentheses between my thighs where I left you.
& autumn became just as fleeting. I
remember red as if it were currency;
borrowed from womanhood and the kiss that claimed us one.
I remember how you fed me oranges
& I tongued the seeds while my fingers played in your hair. I
crawled inside your analogy and made love to you as if I were an eggshell;
small and brittle, unable to stand the concrete weight of your hands.
I raise the hem of my skirt;
my womb has gone back to war beneath ripe cotton. I
try to draw a line between us
& peel back the blisters of what you left inside of me;
the color of a thousand tight throated blossoms when it bleeds.
I bought oranges today
& picked dandelions to place on my breasts where your skin still covers me. I
smell of sandalwood and citrus-
I snuff out my cigarette in the fruit's flesh and gnaw on the rind.
"Bees do have a smell, you know, and if they don't they should, for their feet are dusted with spices from a million flowers." -Bradbury