Orange and Blue

I painted at your feet plaid in orange and blue, while you called me “whore” and “cunt,” your toes brimming like the koi pond pressed in concrete, center square of the shopping mall.

Like, small eruptions, they blazed the fire of God’s scorching tongue dimmed only by man’s grey blunt greed.

You promised to cut me, bleed a poem to my thighs, while I raised my glass to meet your eyes, full of razor smiles slicing suggestion.

And while we slashed each other so, the violet poison misting our ears, making rhymes echo and crash the canals, cascaded down to pool in pelvic hollows of warm, viscous amethyst paramnesia.

Ending, our ruby sighs flushed pink, sailing me home to harbors bottom deep, I whispered in your smile: “Let me paint the coral’d sea beneath you orange and blue.”

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.