- lighting a scented candle with a match (not a lighter because it's more sagely and woodsy that way).
- breathing in the smokey incense of milky coffee wafting from your newly lit candle (alternative second-hand flavoured smoke won't kill you as fast).
- burning your finger on the charred nub of the match after you've just blown it out (because you're just so clumsy).
- yearning to pop a creamy blister that's grown on your finger (it itches and searing pain presses on but it feels so good).
- when he grabs your hand to stop you from hurting yourself (you've been squeezing it like an underripe pimple that isn't ready to pop).
- when he offers to bite it out with his teeth instead (ugh that's so hot).
- applying your biology lessons in real life (seeing red and white blood cells flow from vampiric puncture in a twisting orange river).
- when he wants to nibble your neck next (and his canines have been filed down to fangy points in preparation).
- feeling cosy and sleepy (and lightheaded due to blood loss).
- falling asleep on his shoulder (while he coninues to feed. nomnomnomnom owo).
YOU ARE READING
i'll never be a poet
Poetryand here's the pretentious proof an ongoing anthology of the poetry of nobodi.
