Oh bestow that pungent, dreamy waft of your intent

across sullied sheets, stained pinkish in

crook of elbow, of stubbly cheeks,

of too much sunshine: ferocity.

These afternoon pleasures sing with peppered resolve; drift into our nascent

underbellies like prelude to the requisite laceration.

Oh to be more than a mere keepsake:

an attractive, fleeting bauble precariously

perched on shelf near bed.

Impetuous, languid lapses into rumination accomplish little but sullied pause.

2011-06-07 00.26.00


2 thoughts on ““Intentions”

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

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