Monday, August 28, 2017

Dirt

Every time it happens
Every. Time.
Pinched skin back behind my ears
And crack my chest

Rope drawn mess
Following my undercarriage
Hoping to pull me inside
Out again.
And creeping bones
Like my smile
Subside after a turn
When the universe is solid

But now it is all
Squirrelling guts and
Drunken moons
Pouring another snifter of swoon

Delightful haze that blinds me
Delightful as it my be
I would rather you leave me full than
Jangle my bones in the dirt again.

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