Hounded out, across a pale grey valley,
shades of purple spotted skin, softly glown
amid the half-lit dusk; pronounced vision,
cattle call, whistle~
~,~,~
I wouldn't know where to find you, not
where to begin, or end, or interim. So instead,
I sob beneath the baseboards and in the
china cabinets, in the cubby where we used to
keep the cleaning chemicals; I dance
among the toxic shelves, and in a pool
of Cascade™ murk.
And it's no different than being
in your arms-- the same
intoxication, the only difference is
when I wake up, I am my self.
YOU ARE READING
Please Don't Touch
PoesíaPlease Don't Touch is my first self-published book of poetry, written and published originally in 2012. #51 in Poetry, 3 June, 2017 #85 in Poetry, 4 June, 2017 #108 in Poetry, 25 May, 2017 #136 in Poetry, 26 May, 2017 #149 in Poetry, 24 May, 2017 #1...
