It’s stings at the insides of my nose
Coarse, stagnant scent
Desert(ion) of red
A place in half-empty overturned glass
My world is crimsom tinted
Alight and on fire
A Butter
F . l . y
wing-s-tipped with gasoline
Alight upon a cancerstick
‘‘I may have cried.’’What of it ?
And your nicotine hashed laughter.
Followed me home and flittered against my door
Like the butterFLY.
Although, your laughter didn’t scream while it did it
It’s not at all like the storybooks say
Where you ravish me in almost-private (secret) places
Marking me as yours
Bruised skin near my throat
It’s rather winded-breathless
All time
All dark
All night
When you’d never dream of doing anything but tasting me
And I’m enthralled by a smokey-mint tongue
That can trace my spine and leave it dry
So light is touch.
Then there are the fireflies
So bright
Like stars
You can almost believe that we really are
Floating, light and spinning
Although, do stars dance like fireflies (I wonder) ?
And then you’re off again
And can’t stop smiling.
I was not (a secret summer fling) !
The love of your life, maybe.
But If I told you that, you’d laugh/ed/.
I can hear it still, it’s nicotine hashed, and smokey mint flavoured.
Dancing in my ears like fireflies (is that how it feels to have a light inside ?)
There’s dust on the road still
And an echo of your fingers
On the skin of my palm
