PACIFIER

Drained djinn, pacify Lucinder
with a cardamom-colored blanket under
and a coffee-stained pacifier.
This little chick is on fire.
But no, pusher, you push the girl.
Up and down a sliding scale
of good and evil– bird or weevil.

These wishes come true
in a puddle, a jinx of maple syrup.
The joke’s on me; we shouldn’t stir it.
We are stuck together,
because I’ve bathed us in unnatural sugar,
a forced sweetness.

Lucie, luciole lighting in the ossuary old,
our vanquished breaths still resurrect a sour
and each token of affection jaundices,
a gimcrack of pirated bone.

My worn heart, my sex,
giblets hiding under an oxblood coverlet.
We fought in the arena, a whole gig set, in halls like this,
the color of Mexican cherry–
an opal that won’t marry me.

You cover up eyes of chicory,
under lenses the color of English skies.
My own temples hide
beneath overfilled cups.

There. There.
We know enough to care.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s