pieces of my heart, baby
there’s salt in the air
50c each
between your shoulder blades, under your tongue, in your skin, around your wrists…
i could suckle the sticky coconut milk from the corners of your mouth
her mouth tasted like autumn
her mane is the colour of winter leaves
think pink
a letter
you were the kind of shimmering mirage fools cross deserts for
all you can do is twirl in the indigo light
pull the night down in ink blots for me
she bit her lip at the sight of his adam’s apple, sliding under the pale milky skin of his throat like a sweet boiled candy.
the scent of knowing where hidden treasure lies.
make believe
my ‘raison d’être’, baby
oyster shell french knickers
dandelion bouquets
lick the sweet sugar
scarlet ruby rose blush brazen red ripe magenta cardinal garnet auburn cherry blood ember fire
