to be
coffee stained tiger striped
fading white white lines against skin
red
with the flush of blood to the surface
the flush must remind me of sex
or maybe it is the knowledge of the body
that stops me on the street
face flooded
the flush must remind me of sex
or maybe it is the knowledge of the body
that stops me on the street
face flooded
Wine stained,
dress splashed
red
the mosquito I crushed against your shoulder
leaving a wide dark mark on the green of your sleeve
a strangers blood against your skin
intimate
tiny twisted body ruin in the grass
you hold me up
stained red
you hold me up
intimate
us
two soft lines that twist and
unravel like the long broken limbs of an insect
i dream of the colour of our blood underneath our skin
I wake up
Lovely.
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