Wayward Dionysus
or conglomeration of poetry ive written in the past into something palatable
Humid rain, a cloud of jellyfish or motes of dust, hangs
in the air like a veil over the face while we eat sharp sweet
pomegranate seeds exploding like childrens’ laughter on
your lips glow red with sweetness, scarlet rivulets run down chins.
drops from fingers leave bold magenta kisses on the
white cloth blossoming like
a rich wine curl into a globe of blown glass
a soft girlwhisper into his brown ear curve.
my dress is covered in punctuated splatters
commas, periods. quotations of juice
a daring stake claim of the jealous ruddy fruit.
A push-I stumble over
betweenbelow lines of
mirthful silence you are laughing
on the inside and your tongue is stained
purple with sweetsour love.
you chased me through that summer
water smelling hot clean salty-sweet like
life I thought as our arms waved, hair tossing
feet splashing til we stop in the center of the swirling
eddy created by our own limbs.
water and dirt converge creating veins of sepia-brown
lick at our pale toes
curling at the unexpected chill.
Humid rain, a cloud of jellyfish or motes of dust, hangs
in the air like a veil over the face while we eat sharp sweet
pomegranate seeds exploding like childrens’ laughter on
your lips glow red with sweetness, scarlet rivulets run down chins.
drops from fingers leave bold magenta kisses on the
white cloth blossoming like
a rich wine curl into a globe of blown glass
a soft girlwhisper into his brown ear curve.
my dress is covered in punctuated splatters
commas, periods. quotations of juice
a daring stake claim of the jealous ruddy fruit.
A push-I stumble over
betweenbelow lines of
mirthful silence you are laughing
on the inside and your tongue is stained
purple with sweetsour love.
you chased me through that summer
water smelling hot clean salty-sweet like
life I thought as our arms waved, hair tossing
feet splashing til we stop in the center of the swirling
eddy created by our own limbs.
water and dirt converge creating veins of sepia-brown
lick at our pale toes
curling at the unexpected chill.