Have you seen the Lost Boys?

sixty six. amalgamated venus

I.

we would hope that
it would be hopeful :
my mouth downturned
as a lopsided lunar orbit.

but eyes fell on pink satin
and wandered over a
girl's arms : it's just true
that we are softer shouldered
than you — and our mouths
enchant further with little spheres
of knowing just something
out of reach.

we preach the pull of petals
and lust of loneliness for when
you pulled my plaits under your neck
where i slept — in sunshine that
should have made me sunny
as an egg yolk lathered tongue —
i found a godly ghost by my skirt
and she was lost so lost.

and maybe that was why a
small death found my eyes aglow
with salt trickling, and made my mouth
sweet as marshmallows under you —
an echo of past life dripping from the ceiling
which returned my flaming gaze.

and whilst my shoulders are not
satin soft as some: i find nails tugging
the hairs of an arched brow out —
and sweet satisfaction in ice cream
licks and drips did not undo it, no
not a moment when i wear the day
on my mouth every day

yet your lips say
that they linger on love every day,
where yet your iris drifted me astray
under a hollow tree and sapling way —

II.

i got down on my knees as if to pray. my hair was curled by rain as my jaw slackened over your pelvis and eyes watched an unbuckled belt. it was christmas time, christmas eve, and orange lamplight made the birds sing though it was night and the sun was yet to rise over our heads. you took photographs. i steadied myself with thumbs in your hip bones and wondered why i had brought myself here, outside with the birds singing in the nighttime. retrospect saw me used like tissues and discarded by the pavement with breasts bruised and my mouth smeared on the wall.

(01/07/2018)