Delicate and drunk I wander a
garden of dreams, bitter flowers twisting,
petals ripping at the seams, and I
yawn, silent indignance at the
sweet flickering shadow sneaking around
the edges. This garden is not round, it does not
roll, but it is dough in the hands of the weak.
Helpless and raw, I smile still, my tongue
beating in the cave of my words,
manipulated, like the tune of the
thousandth fiddle. One lazy lick and I blow over like
gossip, all the while winter whispering in its milky rasp,
‘You are awake.’
The pen is poised, impatient for inspiration to strike.
All You Can Think bed black cats body heat books bruises bullshit coffee comebacks constellations cowboys dancing darkness dick dream drunk eyes fire flowers freak heartbeats holes Hope kiss kisses laughter lick lips Love and Other Ghosts midnight mirror mirror naughty numbers on the shelf outsider owls pearls pedicures piano pride reflection relfection secrets shadow skies skin skull smile smoking sparrows stars stones strangers strawberries Stupid Girl sunglasses sunsets Temper Temper the Blues the lemon tree tongue ugly velvet waiting whistling wine winter wishing Word Poodles