you feel to me,
like dirt under my nails,
but my viper heads rise,
at the sound of your voice,
my hair recoils,
when the thought of you,
touching touches my mind;
i cannot remember the time,
that i lost love’s sight,
yet the look in your eyes,
makes me grind my teeth,
makes me purse my lips,
makes me punch my gut,
makes me love you against it all
i’m a haunted house where the echoes of past laughs ring faintly through corridors… paint
liminal haze of waking up,to a white walled,cob-webbed coffin,erasing life off too quickly,yesterday forgotten like,history
blinding sun and choking air,smoking nights in a longing lair,holed up naked or walking down
rub the soap till it’s petal thin, water in shampoo to keep it swell, same
part of this dark i am,she weeps beside meno sound no water,a disoriented beat,with only
