Maroon
new beginnings in the shape of
maroon nail polish bottles
and
white joints
smiling at what was once never to be
but is
in some warped three dimensional way
you stand before me
with hands that touch
but never have touched
me with my dreams in a backpack
and purple toes
fears inhaled by nicotine twigs
time biding
hailing taxi cabs
to take us to one dimensional places
where you stand before me
with a future hiding in those eyebrow strands
painting on a second coat of me
these are the times I hate not remembering
remember being cherish being feel
at the moment
this moment
in your arms
with warm flesh pressed up against non-tenable objects
potent fumes
permeating
sinking into skin
a sin
a cycle
recycled
my veins crave your gentle pressure
when you stand before me
being exactly who you say you are
not knowing if that's such a good thing in my realm
with dreams of lollipops and bleeding marionettes
neon frogs and beautiful deceased squirrels
how could you survive
playing, dancing, a raped charade
I'm all out of clues
with
my eyes sewn shut
feeding the swans poison tablets
to writhe and wail
and pale
in comparison
to you standing before me
with your hand outreached
asking to take me into your world
world of philosophy and reason
religion and justification
where naming the squirrels
and acknowledging monkey flesh
just ain't kosher
my hair will be red tomorrow
this headache will be gone
and you will stand before me
Drying in 60 seconds
or less.
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