1. 02:20 14th Sep 2010

    Notes: 7

    Tags: my poetry

    11:11 is too cliche

    your lips on my cheek, tongue poking out like your fingers grazing my breast, stealing my wishes. now, years later, i lick my licks and pluck a lash a day the way some people exercise or call their mother or make love. stripping down to the minimum, looking for wishes fate’s been hiding from me; my eyes, unprotected, cry a little easier, from the pollen and smell of piss. the lashes, stuck to the pudge on my round, little face, grin at me like war paint: sacrifices are a part of winning the battle. 

     
    1. marissaisgod posted this