Fig

The heights of optimism is when you're haappy tis your left side of your tummy that's achin and not your right cause well, ya know for sure that it aint appendicitis!

Ideas are fabulous things...absolutely breathtaking when you find them and then your breath doesn't come back till it's art directed well.

Anticipation smells of dried fish - Hidden Arsonist


Here's something I went a lil goldfish over yesterday! As in blinking wide eyed with a small O...


Rubbery
Fluid
I taste your blood
Rust on my tongue
Beneath the thin substance
Your lips engorged
Slip over me
Fluid
Rubbery

Your cheek exfoliates mine
Nibble my chin
The scar will be my smile
In dark rooms
And dim mirrors
A layer of me to pick at absently

The peel, caramel-coloured
Shows in photographs

I search for your cavities
Your tongue strains to find my wisdom
Dental excavations tickle

Your fingers trail over my navel
I giggle convulsively
Writhe
Pull away, pulling you closer

My stomach freezes
You forgot your hand there
My breath is stuck
The familiar free-fall
I feel when you stare too long
Or I think of you staring too long

There is intimacy in anticipation
In your weight anchoring me
In my sleep lost to your breathing
In the freedom to
Remember
Reconstruct
Recreate

Salt everywhere
Your hand holds a breast
The one without latte-brown predictions of foolish love

Memories mock


She brilliant!!