Poetry

The Morning Pastry Commute

she kisses her teeth
a lick of sugar
tart

a torn tapestry
a sweet taste of her past

apricot curls around her tongue
orange & sticky

a sickly toast to the inner girl
a swallowed swirl
a polished pearl

her finger taps the coffee cup
impatiently.

behind her blurred swathes
of city lights
mock her swollen cheeks
as she takes another bite

a glazed cave of
crème anglaise
euphorically caresses
her appetite

a dollop of cream
catches on her upper lip and
as she chews golden flakes
festoon her chin

a little saved for later.

If I Were A Splinter

I want to dig myself into you. 
Watch you scribble your dribble
as I twist and fiddle
myself into your skin. 

I want you to swallow me up in the seams of your palms
Like a mummy, embalmed,
I want to be a part of you. 

I want you to search for me.
Like a needle in a haystack 
And if you lean forward
I’ll push myself further back 
Until, like my sign, of the zodiac
I’ll sting you with a counterattack.

Like a harpoon to a whale.

Breathe in, exhale
As I empale 
Myself further into you. 

Like a raspberry seed
I’ll nestle into your teeth 
so you can’t spit me out. 

I want to sting you
Like you stung me.

I want to sting you.
Like you stung me.

Deeply.