I taste each grain of sand
as they rub against my tongue
lip deep in a pit
she says I should not struggle
from each grain oozing into my mouth
a slow drowning that stirs up
memories of other more joyful things
I might drown in
the dreams I used to have
half awake at night with
cell phone clutch
between my fingers
when I drowned in flesh not sand
and could care less
if I could not come
up for air
not sand then
I imagine my tongue playing against
so nearly as tiny spot
against my lips
my tongue tasted it
tasting forbidden
fruit
consumed by the thought I might not survive
and could not care less
flesh up and over me
f
feeling me up with my imagination then
and the sand I
consume now
drowning me one grain
at a time
No comments:
Post a Comment