almost pretty.

xi. chick habit

you look like you could be my
next bright thing; the latest girl-tonic
to drown myself in, to douse
my faults and scars away,
to lay beside under a broken ceiling,
to graze with sinner's teeth.

i haven't seen your thighs, but i imagine
they'd welcome my head, softly 
squeeze my skull,
remind me that we are young women
and any dark place could be lit with
the scent of the other's neck.

i haven't known you long
but our words slip downstream easy,
pad feline across worn carpet
entwine girlish lips together.
(and maybe not the ones
we use to speak)

fuck it, babe? fuck it all
academia won't never do it for us,
i'd rather lie quiet in absence of work, listen to
nothing fucks with my baby
and fuck with my baby
pretty, gentle and slow.