{just to mind fuck} amy king Such light leads us to the torso to bleed another mouth; you take the trombone shot, probing the potentials paved in rent: who wears the pants home? Moisten me down with nectar from the sheriff, give me the law of the land— Pan in and out on the potentials of fire’s candy, breed me like a Scottie on your favorite rope chain hoping for a kinder, gentler world over cabbage soup & petals. With tears of lilac, throats of ash, I had a dream about you that scared me, & the rest of us. You were lying beside me in a hotel bed with strange people in another room watching us remotely. You kept massaging my feet, you threw your legs over mine and fell asleep. I’m not so brave, but you’re not as slow as vocabulary goes. In fact, what you say betrays I’m not in love, I don’t want sex, real or just to mind fuck— but to take care of the furniture, now while we lie here, infested. |