burnt tongue.

November 11, 2009

bumps on her skin
raised flesh providing
markers in space
tic tac toe triangle
the strongest structure
above her button

wrasps* breaking breath
a tightness between her ribs
choking symphonies
orchestrating thought

goddamn this distance
that drives us so
frenzied by the now, the what ifs, the
supposed, the meant.
stuck on plans
that seem to no longer fit.
bc of her button.
her breath.
her ribs.
her skin.

his skin.
his ribs.
his breath,
over her button.

it seems as though what’s important
is all here.

so be here.
be here.



*i can’t read my writing. this may not have been the word. what does it matter anyways, this sucks.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: