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Don't call me sensitive
April 17, 2010
Copy this into the margin
of your soft whispered satin ears
fold it into your skin and swallow it
into your pores
Sink in to Africa
the jungle's waxy leaves
eerie flutes like wet hands
a lullaby
through touch
natures sweet breath
dirty finger nails and white knuckles
digging into my sides
making itself at home
in the pits of my stomach
twisting and curling
squirming into me
sucking the life out of me
I am floating in a cloud of
rehabilitation and inhibitions.
© Emma J., Tuck, GA
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