oh! girl in the corner,
drenched in deep indigo,
violets in your lap,
illuminated by the sparse lights in this establishment.
it might be the suddenly free drinks,
but standing here,
screaming red wine supernova with you,
i am lit like a match,
burning hot under your touch-a
touch-a touch-a touch- me.
your hands on my chest,
stranger in the dimmed room,
it’s our mutual friend’s birthday,
i can hardly remember your name,
would you kiss me?
where would you kiss me?
anywhere would do.
take my picture with your friend’s camera,
i am showing too much skin because
i know you are watching.
if we were alone maybe i would come closer,
but as we are, i’m trying to impress you
with my poor pool skills.
you go off to the dance floor and i abandon the game
in favour of you.
girl in the corner,
drenched in deep indigo.
crazy eyeliner that suits you perfectly.
i’m so drunk i ask my friend if i can bite her
(she says yes)
can i bite into you?
oh, cannibalism as a metaphor for love,
but this isn’t love, it’s lust (are they really any different?)
and it’s not about eating you whole
(at least not in that way)
i just want your skin under my teeth,
under my tongue.
take my leash and yank it if i nip,
i am girl turned hound under the
moonlight of your skin.
girl in the corner,
drenched in deep indigo,
you are ripe for the picking,
i will pluck you from the tree and take a bite
like the first mother taught me,
creating sin out of discovery.
you leave me drenched
and simultaneously sucked dry.
the next days i think of nothing but you,
and here i am,
writing of nothing but you.
Photo by Anna Shvets via Pexels.
