They dance across her freckle-face
the ever-move never-stop sideways lips
soundless
search like eyes for anchor
as bottom-feeds her slippery smile
seven circles at once,
mercury, malice,
tolerate, tender,
serpent-tongue
snake-bit
.
As her lips search like eyes to win a braille-reading spelling-bee prize
her tongue darts at tea leaves, runes,
palms,
ready spirits,
intents,
deranger of dragonflies
she lies, she lies
.
This little girl with a fern for a face
hers a gatling-gun mouth a-rapid a-fire
come-hither,
mocking,
a grimace,
a blessing,
fell in on itself
where fell i as well
into her pothole smile
.
Lied that never the lie
as she stroked, then read, my palms
in the dawn’s early begin morning nautical twilight
.
Her lips in the form of a question
for the cat in her lap
.
She read my eyes like any gold-digger
.
Taps the ground, palms-down,
like any penitent
ashes to ashes
she all fall down
jesus as junkie
when Emancipated Abigail,
like love,
come to town
.
Questions she the blind lanternfish at her side
.
Departs
leaves me eyes wide
no matter the number of times
i take her side
.
|
Like this:
Like Loading...
Related
