Painful Pillow Talk

My fingertips tap your sweet shoulders
Hotter than the aluminum roofs of staggering summers
I wonder who your mind and mouth will be interested in next

Who will your clock tick-tock for?
Who will your palms sweat-snap for?
Who will your heart pitter-pat for?

I sink into my cool desk chair and twirl my hair around my fingers
Vodka soaked nights, club soda removed red wine spills
Our lips touch lighter than a strapless silk cocktail dress

My palms and fingers interlock with yours
Cleaner lines than kitchen counters at five star hotels
I wonder who your mind and mouth will be interested in next

Who will your feet tap-tip for?
Who will your head think-thoughts for?
Who will your stomach spin-stop for?

We continue to suffer through painful pillow talk
Coffee filter cubicles, water ring stained wood tables
Our toes touch lighter than a flickering lighter flame

Metro Toes

The Substitute Fruit

Everyone has a grapefruit.
Oh that, tart, sweet fruit that sits on the counter alone
It always needs sugar

You always need breakfast
So you eat it…
Sour liquid and pulp fills your spoon
You swallow even though the thought of the kitchen sink is near.

Everyone has a grapefruit.

Its peel shines like the sun from behind your skinny fruit collective
Bigger isn’t always better
It always needs sugar

You try to forcefully blend it into being orange juice
So you drink it…
Pink acidic poison drowns your tonsils
It needs vodka more than your Saturday night ride on the Greyhound.

Everyone has a grapefruit.
















Picture From: Eight ways to eat a grapefruit