addict
hotter in my veins is a long drawl
of repeated shots, of hypnotic rubbing
bodies, stomachs touching and thighs
interlocked. in my eyes there is no lie,
and on the street our bones
ache in unison, begging to succumb
but we refuse wet mouths of men.
i lay on his bedroom floor
with numb limbs, listening to him
smile and breathe in the black air.
as the sun starts again
i drag my body across broadway
avoiding the unlit,
smearing old makeup from eyes
and coughing against the need for
cigarettes.
arboreal; veins
i have nothing to say
in these gaps
and no more excuses for those
dark creases under their eyes.
when this was still wet and malleable
i had plans
'cause i
had
plans and yes
my bones
creak a certain sigh lately
in unison with the tone
of tired carbon dioxide leaving lungs
and i
had plans for
satiating.
you see, i want to scream into your eyes so
loud that my voice
gets trapped in the dark pupil of your iris
but my lungs aren't
fierce enough to get this all out. there's
too much consciousness,
these bits are chipping off the ceiling and
i'm too lazy or tired
to pick it all off bit by bit so i shake and
shiver it away. our skin
has worn thin.
i don't think papercuts hold the same fear
they used to.
by the way, i had plans
but feel the bruise that stays
sienna, and press hard to make it
grow.
i had plans
but couldn't save
anything from creasing, from
rotting or wilting:
AND
i had plans
about all this
being tangible.
we are sad people with veins
that pulse and pull.
and i had
plans?
debt
when you learned i knew something
about star trek and had an affinity
for jean luc picard the room grew
indebted. similar moments stick
like leaves in concrete, because
we danced a dirty waltz of clumsy steps
just to bring our teeth closer to air. and,
as a result, learned that fondness camps out
in unexpected places, and people.
our elbows click heels like dorothy
leaving for kansas, but we move nowhere.
Alaina S. Bio