That tangerine sunshine
Transcends into fluorescent porous
Experience
and I am transfixed by the simple tear
sliding seductively down your cheek
until it finds a home in the crevasse of your lips
and reenters the devine something-ness
that is your body.
Oh, to tempt the sunshine godess of
silver underlinings,
pained translucent awkwardness
and a dirty pillow cased
covering a filthy pillow.
Funny how the orange light
makes you seem even more human
less like the envisioned memory
I have of a Tuesday morning,
waking up to the mirror that was not myself.
Smoke flies and love dies and all these small niceties
are suddenly trapped
on this tiny periwinkle dot
that houses and delouses
find and discomforts
salts and slides
across the permeable membrane of my body
into the void that is
and continues to be
the void that is me and is also
without me
