Wednesday, August 5, 2009

about my ______ lying there

I'll give you my heart if you promise not to let it spoil, freezerburn or mold while youre away, we'll keep it sage in plastic wrap, the soft edges smoothing against the warmth of your hands molding it into shape. My lump, a slight shade of pink on the counter and shrink-wrapped into perfection.
Don't bother me with bubbles
or promises.
Maybe
just concrete and ceramics
to fill the spaces between the loves. Lime
sweet on fingertips, inner thighs, sighs-
crisp edges upon which to slice ethics
into antics and love into moans.