keep your hoodie on
stare into my extreme distance
yet with a touch of a button
I could be right in your trance
I like the rhythm of your hands
as they soothe my ruffled words
my constant negative off shore lands
at your doorstep along with my birds
cannot go far without them
you in my head
lay me sweetly on your turned hem
adore the French, Italian, Spanish food
as you feed me their pots of stories
each lover unique Yet obscure
ready to lure
you in
intrigue you with secret recipes
aren’t we too old for that game so untrue
to our claimed values
of pop culture phenomena, the blues.
Enter my booth made of church wood pew
tell me everything and all that I knew
without a glance
three times I heard your voice in my fated chance
to see how your breath tastes in mine
to let the suds dissolve in their own time.
Nothing is certain
draw the red velvet curtain
just kiss me
under the sycamore tree
You have all the beauty inside you

if only you could open your heart

and see how
Sunday is meant to be with your lover

and if you can make any other day

a Sunday you have the magic

in you.

lined shells

Almost fell asleep in the warm water
anti-stress relief
waiting for me
like a stone
lined shells on my shore
as I bury my head
to block out the sound
of the washing machine
the smell of apricot
and the suds evaporating
exposing all my flesh
to the surrounding ghosts
in flames
inside me
longing to get out
watching my every move
and waiting for me
to fuck up
over and over
as I slide into the darkness
where only mermaids
can understand
my need to escape
and their gemini faces.

Face me with your
early face
not your night one.

I walk like a woman
and I’ll look you
in the eye.
Straight on
like someone who stole
your heart
nipples chilled
heart aching
head aching
sore soul
from all the bullets
remaining tight and
sleeping with the silverware
wrapped around my heart
of gold.
You walk like a man
and I like the
way you read me
and never analyze
the mess I create
and the beauty I sow.
It is intertwined
each moan
and grace.

One time do not let my light
dissuade you
from my long legs
that run fast
and my young heart
that detonates
when you leave
me again
and again.

Bath time

The bath reveals secrets
in its playlist
and sound.
It can soothe me
distract the duties
as I examine unclean walls
no motivation to change you
or my reasons
for leaving you as distant
as you truly are.

The poor men that hush
I felt the tension
and ran upstairs
to my apartment
shut the door
so fast
my daughter saying
that was awkward Ma
I agreed.

They probably talked about
all the ways they’d like
to fuck me
but none of them
could look me in the eye
their eyes on every part of me
except my eyes.

No wonder I run
from whom I live with
and who wants my mindfuck.

And age means nothing
in the context
it never did.

And money is just an afterthought
because any restaurant will do
as long as I’m sitting across from you.

And cars are mere jewels
I can ride a bus.

And this Indie playlist
is fucking around with my head
as music tends to do.

And this calgon scrub
smells like vanilla
making my skin silky.

And floral is my scent.

The water is still warm.
My phone still in my hands.
The distant closer.