i'm a little gun shy:
i want to kiss you
a bullet from my lips to yours
with slow and gentle grace
i promise not to leave exit wounds
(you can hold what i give you inside)
i will be patient with the draw
let you see the shot coming
or beg you to shoot me first
because i am already down
my wrists are bullet holes
from a trigger i pulled in an echoing place
and i still hear it now
but i want hits from your lips
and fingertips
my skin can be target practice
because i am gun shy
when it comes to living touches
and i need them now
YOU ARE READING
Dysphoria
Poetry"I dreamt I grew roots and sunk into deep earth, Where mud became my skin and dampened grains freckled my surface, I opened my mouth wide for the sprouting branches Leaf-speckled limbs And sunflowers blossomed from my eyes, Sunlight bled in waves, w...
