I’m All In, Baby

gardens of dead flowers—
sweet nothings plucked from my ear—
in a crypt,
stolen railroad pieces in a bone yard,
scrappy bracelet glimmering like diamond in a marble town*.
i’ll wear any grace you give like a badly fit costume,
watch it slip off, a gift from me to the breeze
as i sail atop your friend’s car, trying not to be skinned,
for i wonder if you would like me the same if i was but a mind
though i know you love to swing upon my wiry frame as a jungle gym,
feeding the lost animals looking for a home.

we burn like your cigarette between the lips i crave,
as the sunlight caresses you like a seductive mistress.
your breath wraps around me in cigarette smoke and promises.
throw it away, cough it out, get it out of your system.
i’m still there for now, phlegm in the back of your throat.
are you sick of it yet? am i still enough? am i what you want?
am i right for you or am i right here?
small pond kids, would you still endear
if you realized you were the eighth wonder of the world,
trapped in country crevasses,
held back with ropes of curled eyelashes
by me, the cave creature you claim to love?

but for now, i’ll love you as we plan together to see all the land,
dancing in smoke from illegal fireworks under bridges,
painting differently hued fingernails in stores until banned,
playing sports with bloody knees and sweaty kisses,
running through beams of half-finished houses, our own temporary homes.
i’ll get drunk off your intoxicating touch until the bartender calls last call,
as we’re hanging off roofs with stunning sights envious of you,
chasing in hide and seek like prey and predator through glittering night,
petting every stray animal in sight, no matter the smell,
visiting watercolor lakes life forgot and painting ourselves in mud.
and the goosebumps you give will purify my arsenic skin to porcelain.

sweet kisses leave candy crusts on cheek
until they wash off in the drowning sea of our lying love.
sweet-tooth teeth fall with words of passion,
but don’t spill bloody “i love you”-s
if just to fill the cavities.
say it only if you mean it,
only if teeth coming behind are mine to keep,
even if another’s tongue drags across.
we’ll build forts of pillow talk in broken childhoods barren of any tooth fairy,
and it will take me two minutes to write your name in my messy journal,
because the name that i write is your name, so it has to be written well.
a small nothing, for you deserve heavens i cannot give,
as i am but a small, simple kid
with big words to hurl
in a love affair.

*Marble town is synonym for graveyard.

Author: Zoe Conner

I'm Zoe Conner. I'm writing on a computer named Rambo, which you should only say with a rolled r. I write because I don't want to be just another cog in the machine. I live. I write. That's all you need to know. View all posts by Zoe Conner