I like to play
With spider webs in the dark
Soft tickles and harsh bites
I tend to forget lately
What the frame looks like
Behind closed eyes
I listen to the trickle on the window ledge
Kiss my lips in the shower
My damp hair in the morning
My pillows aren’t soft
or cool enough to soothe
My burnt fingertips

entre deux

Use me

Trace l’arc de ma colonne du bout des doigts

Jusqu’à la date de péremption

Will you call my name

As you love another

Et la pluie sur mes cuisses

Tastes rotten

Under your tongue

Intimités inconnues