morning lines #144
I brought out parchment to bake the scones on.
Instead I wrapped myself in it and waited
for the UPS man to come with string
and a gentle hand.
morning lines #143
I won’t waste the season’s last
raspberries on you, pink-red pouches,
so sweet I could weep.
They ache to be tongue-fucked.
Instead, I’ll kiss their eyelashes and lick
their tears before dropping them,
one by one, deep into my mouth,
past bitter and fear.