pomegranate tea
you forget my name as you
introduce your mother
and wait for her to leave::
:: you make sure to steep the tea
before placing it delicately between
my two, small hands. there's no
innuendo, you can tell i am nervous,
but i want to change. so you lead me
to your bedroom and turn on music,
that i still can't hear.
the sex was okay,
i was happy that you were patient.
by the time we finished,
i had the taste of tea
still in my mouth,
nothing had
changed,
and i pondered
my lack of love
as i drove away.
YOU ARE READING
soft light
Poetryi just want to feel okay again. poems written circa 2017-2020. what a wacky time to exist. if a lot of these seem unhinged it's probably because most of them were written while i was in a very abusive relationship. tw for occasional themes of addict...
