Red on the right.
Surrounded by cotton and down.
Lovers fall into each other on purple walls pulling invisible strings from above both nipples and under my belly button. Land ends within my sight from my bedroom door
Strong coffee turns my fingers numb filling my head with parachuting thoughts of sleds and bicycles and Keds sneakers leaping from rooftops to stairwells.
Towels taunt my unclean body while wooden fingers hold our vows on my Mexican bookshelf.
Empty pink champagne bottles remind me of long gone times.
A white vase holds the keys to cold places beyond mud and rocks.
While white puffs sit in a glass jar alongside an orchid that never blooms in my tiny bathroom.
Water drips in arrhythmic patterns from littered gutters to sludge unclaimed components which are few.
Towering plains circle above reproaching me to accession.
Smells of fish and flowers circle below in the kitchen
holding me at bay cornering me in my hole ready to strike or dig deeper.
I retaliate with principle and resolve.
Cloaked in raven.
Adjusting my mane.
Licking the sleaze bright.
I approach the stairs with fortitude the beaconing cycle of desire.
Being occupied with pre-hassling tendencies I am prepared to tackle and arrest the flounder as I grab the blue vase descending to capture the fragrant prisoners and submerge them within.
Freed from antiquity if only for a crack
Saved for one more day
an untouched molecule
an unscathed portion
an uninjured part
of my spoiled whole self.