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Calligraphy
You are sharp as calligraphy.
You’ve scorched my auburn eyes lavender
with one capricious poke into
the starry flesh of my past.
Agony is frivolous. Still the bliss of tears is
scrumptious on my tongue.
Under the warmth of your whims
sleeps a scissor-legged fairy,
the blood-red edge of her caresses
hidden by the shadow of today.
Jessica T. Lockwood
You are sharp as calligraphy.
You’ve scorched my auburn eyes lavender
with one capricious poke into
the starry flesh of my past.
Agony is frivolous. Still the bliss of tears is
scrumptious on my tongue.
Under the warmth of your whims
sleeps a scissor-legged fairy,
the blood-red edge of her caresses
hidden by the shadow of today.
Jessica T. Lockwood