It’s Been Over an Hour in This Car

It’s 11:47pm-  you roll up the windows so no one can hear us.

Choke me hard with that seatbelt and send me to the moon with no return ticket.

I’ll make a home out of your craters- natural and strong, but soft and tender too,

built for a queen with a complicated head and a suitcase full of impractical shoes.

 

Boy, I’m trying to blow your mind.

Aiming to give you 911 whiplash when you do a double-take,

noticing all the things I’m doing to you, have done to you, will always do for you.

Yo, you’re right- you don’t fuck like an 18-year-old.

 

Why are you so much cooler than me?

I don’t like being the only vulnerable one here,

so, I built a wall with my pretty painted hands- brick by brick.

I hope you like the view because it’ll be with us for a while.

Tough to knock down, but throw a black dress on it and some red lips,

and maybe you’ll forget how strong it is.

 

That’s it, let me hear you pant as I squeeze your beautiful head between my thighs,

Your brain oozing into me, making its way into my soul, and affecting me in stupid ways.

That’s right, I said STUPID ways.

My legs pull tighter together as I shake, making you gasp for words I can’t give to you yet.

The air on the moon is thin, but you can still hear me,

when I whisper, “Daddy”.

 

Your real name tastes too strong on my wet pink tongue.

I swish it in my mouth like a good wine before I try to spit it out.

My body fights with itself, and instead, the proper noun trickles down my long throat,

all the way, hiding away again, safe and close to my heart.

Its journey gags me but in the best way.

 

A constant tug-of-war liquifying in my head,

and draining out of my perfectly circled pores,

infusing my sweet sweat that’s now covering your lap.

How long will I play before I drop the rope,

and let you win the game?

 

I’m too scared to look into your eyes,

Because I know you’d look into mine without hesitation.

Stop me, like a deer in the headlights.

Hope you brought your gun to shoot me dead, once you’ve finished eating my fresh meat.

 

But hold up,

I don’t want to think anymore.

Let’s light a bowl,

Let’s just be.

 

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Answers I Don’t Have

Ask me questions that are so deep,

that I don’t know the answers to them.

 

Watch me think, biting my lip.

Wait for an answer, but then ask me to go deeper.

 

Always deeper,

until we come to the core,

and we know each other a little bit more.

Mmm, Stay

Bubbles of Bud Light bounce off my swollen taste buds,

opening them up to let out the words I know (I think),

I shouldn’t share.

 

Your brown curl falls into your face.

Draped across your forehead, out of place,

but perfect.

 

I don’t dare move it- I don’t want to ruin you even more.

I watch it dance to the music that your breath makes when you do that ‘mmm’ sound after my name.

Before, sometimes, as we move our hips to the sound of peepers.

 

Moonlight hits your shoulders as the clouds dance.

I’ve always wanted to bite into them hard, but I never knew.

Tell me it’s ok to hold on tight.

 

Chewed

Real talk is…

I don’t regret letting you go up my skirt,

accompanying,

loud music and half-awake dancers;

Dreamlike marionettes being pulled ‘side to side’.

Ariana’s on, obviously.

It’s 4am.

 

Salacious grips on summer thighs,

as I lowered myself.

Down.

YOU, leaving permanent indents,

for more fingers to discover, to bruise,

freshly warmed by your thumbs, purple, but

“It’s all good…”

 

However, I do regret presenting you my heart in my hand,

golden, and asking you to test its strength.

Begging.

“Give it a try. I dare you”.

All smiles when,

I pushed my ass against your belt,

and I could finally hear the bass.

 

Palm up and proud,

YOU finish.

I get a chewed wad,

vodka-infused,

and much smaller than before.

It’s a piece that a wren would give to its baby,

so it wouldn’t choke.

 

I choke hard.

I’m no wren.

My feathers haven’t seen the sun today.

It’s a butchered job.

But, the flavor was gone.

“No, I totally understand”.

Time to unwrap a new piece.

Truly

The wooden spoon frothy with cream,

you set down for a second to come talk to me,

where am I going?

To the moon.

 

Tenderhearted and planting more than gardens,

hope for everyone, but herself,

it’s not fair, we say.

Life is shit.

 

“I love you truly, truly”

Malt-shop oldies and swinging our hips,

“stir the chowder, darling,”

and I did.

 

Freshly-tilled soil.

Please, let’s plant ourselves.

I will always respond,

“truly”.

 

Turn it down,

it’s too hot.

Her dreams are fierce, never dull.

I’ll meet you in your fairy-tale.

 

Weak in her knees,

from working too much.

Dreams never came easily,

Mommy.

This Tangled Nest in Which I Was Born

Crisp Autumn air flew the coop,

An Indian Summer just for us,

The lake called our name too many times,

As we were bundled behind our windows,

That night, the moon shone through begging us to play,

So you woke me up from my tangled nest so I could fly.

 

The car rattled familiar sounds and mixed with peepers in the woods,

Our theme-song: Broken Nature.

Drove in the car naked, no street lights where we lived,

But that’s how we like it.

Turned off the rattling. Peepers had a solo,

As we watched the lights fade on the still water.

 

We tip-toed down the dock, just towels around us,

Our bare-feet cautious of the worn wood.

You slipped into the water slowly, surely, and effortlessly,

But I stood frozen.

 

You are so connected, gliding, floating.

I envied that. I want to be that when I grow up, I thought.

I wanted mother nature to hold me,

Softly but with stability.

Maybe she’s the only mother I need, I thought.

 

My small breasts goose-bump and nipples hardened in the night air.

My summer skin is already gone and the milk-white glows,

Illuminated by the light of the moon.

On her back, without looking, you whispered “just get in”, almost annoyed.

I hesitated still, heard nature’s voice “just get in”, her voice softer, warmer.

Then I jumped.

 

We floated together, feeling the light touch of the water,

Under our backs, under our arms, between our toes, every crevice,

We listened to the sounds,

But we were silent.

This is what it feels like to be loved wholly and fully, I thought.

Peeled Orange

You dig your nails into my thick rubbery skin.

No results. You dig harder. Harder. Harder.

One good stab and the peeling becomes easy, almost humdrum.

Distorted pieces of me I can’t recognize lay on a crumpled Bounty paper towel.

You saved them all, but you have no intention of helping me put them back together.

Instead, you take a bite of my exposed flesh.

I feel your sharp warm teeth open me up.

Break me so you can taste me.

A seed is caught in the sweet juice of mine, dripping down your lips.

It falls to the ground, watered with your spit.

I break free from your clench to tend to it.