Classroom and Coils
Classroom
Thought bounces on the walls
Like those super bouncy balls I had
and lost as a kid
Younger than I am now
There's a voice, one tone
and it resonates too, like my thoughts
But it's background, I'm background
Eight years old and the asphalt is liquid hot
White stripes on a parking lot playground
The air is syrup, sticky, wet
And I'm breathing it, pulling it
in from the atmosphere
into my lungs
Salted tongue, no water
The voice is still going,
words wrapped in words like layers
of blankets making my mind warmer, thicker
I want home, summer, cut grass smell
crisp on the insides of my nostrils
------------------------
Coils
I tell her she'll leave me.
We are on the same bed, but not touching.
Her arm slides over the pillowcase, a soft hiss, skin brushing linen.
I'm not looking at her,
But I know because
I hear.
I'm hoping to stubborn her into staying.
She's like that, you know.
Velvet flesh wrapping granite sensibilities,
Like silken coils tensing around a poison intention.
If I speak it and make it real,
She'll...
Show indignation by loving me again.
I've decided to manipulate with agile fingers playing
Something charming to pull her from her hiding place.
Her startling strike snaps against my own body,
Sinking curiously sharp fangs,
Injecting a sweet numbness.
And I know I've won, for a little while.