iwasonfire

she used to love larks and poppies. she used to love sunflowers, but only as the sun was setting, claiming that only a sunset could capture true beauty. so it was ironic, when i found her little face turned towards the setting sun as it filtered through her dingy window. she slept in the loft on the mornings she found the strength to climb, like the sunflower, straining to catch the final rays, so she could wake to the dimming of her small world. she lets her breath rattle around, in that bird cage chest: the lark longing for freedom. she was asleep. i woke her anyways, knowing she would rather see the sun as it set in

let me envelope you goading your soft soul into the single most aggressive breach birth since your tongue entered my mouth and translated intangible thoughts into palpable moments where your skin brushed mine with a friction that ignited a spark in which we combusted in a sweet conflagration of whiskey-fueled arson let me envelope you like the guerrillas who had less success never existed and it was only ever me that snuck into your heart slipping between your shoulder blades from beneath your long hair navigating through your bird-cage ribs i already own you my fingers still remain curled around that heart of yours i giv

Ian said in a deep voice, "Give me a kiss," as he grabbed my shoulders and pulled me into a bear-hug. "This is a hug, stupid!" I hissed into his ear. A few students hung behind, shifting on their feet beside the Professor's desk. They watched Ian and me with mild interest. "Mr. Márr," droned Martin Vance in his Southern voice, reaching his hand out to me: there was last week's test paper, floating on the AC's draft. "I don't think that Miss Silk appreciates your advances—are you dating Aria?" His voice was laced with syrupy curiosity. Yuch. "Yeah, she's my girl," Ian looked down and winked at me. I winced and ducked from betwe

let me find my lingerie and twist it around your wrist. remember that time we had a rubber band fight— but no rubber bands? you used one of my thongs— it went tumbling out of my window into the soggy rain; i think my landlord keeps it as a reminder of that time i tried to seduce you in nothing but the main lobby and a raincoat. we used up hours of sweet time slowly like we had enough of it—like wasting it wasn’t a big deal. like you meant everything to me and all at once i suppose that’s when you realized how naked i truly was— in your arms.

my skin is cocoa puffs crushed between teeth— lips— your breath sweetens the milk flowing from my breasts; it burbles between your gums— precious little tooth-sprouter.

don’t keep holding your thumb under everybody’s nose— we might staple that notice to your fist just so we can see the punch coming and wonder why we didn’t just stick that “kick me” sign to your back all those years before— back when you were only the tyrant of the sandbox and we the lowly, grassy peasants instead of broke-down, leather-faced tenants with our crippled fingers crumbling this EVICTION NOTICE.

push my button nose. come into my bedroom. lock the door, please. oh, open that window when you’re done with me.

blink slowly and wink at the officer like you would a whore, unbuttoning his pants. like a voyeur. blink slowly and wink.

I stepped into the shower yesterday; Turned the faucet to hotter than I could stand. I tried to melt, Like my heart was 70% dark cocoa. Hot chocolate.