Ponder Lust

Warped warmth and worry

tucked away discretely

like a Saturday nap.


Hello, and

have you had your daily brain drought?

I simply wondered



The apple in your eye

fell from the same galaxy

as the moon between my teeth.

I’m calling to your laugh lines

from a mixed up part of my

seventh–“seventh”– song.

You can hear clearly

the part where I falter

the part where my breath remembers

every droplet lost

from the last lash

your final glance

refreshed my sky with.


If that weren’t enough

to fertilize

the blatantly dry

grasslands of your

cloth           draft,


then know

seriously, know


I’ve always wanted stormy seams.


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