summer idolatry


and you sat complacently

back arched, head tilted

i slinked behind you, grazed you with my fingers

i could see the trichomes on the nape of your neck stand up in uniform silence; electrocuted soldiers

power was a foreign feeling to me

strange and addicting, i took my newfound drug to greater heights

with wet, whispered words, i made you shudder in disgust or delight (it was hard for either of us to discern which was which)

with gray, imperfect skin, i left you panting and i wondered if anything you ever felt was genuine



stark white

you were deep maroons, rich ochres, and boundless spring greens

the other day i tried to scrub the dirt off from my soul

i did not realize that there were cracks

dead skin, melon juice, brain blood; embedded in my wrinkled Sahara of a psyche

irreparable crystalline essence, scarred marble

i wandered in my mind forever, and with the acidic bite of tears in my throat and the pain that comes with shortness of breath,

i concluded that this was it

this was how it would play out

the crawling feeling of filth

that went unnoticed for so long






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