Not so Placid

February 4, 2008
By Kira McCoy, Denver, CO

Brisk, fogged eyes spill in mouthfuls, to the hollowed bay.

baked tentacles slither between my iced ones
boa constricting my plump lady’s fingers.
The quivering lips brush the sugar crystals
which survived wafting heat from the oven.

Warm sea cucumbers frolic in diluted sand
of a neon ocean floor.
Aldente pasta clings for dear life
to a paint-chipped ceiling.

Billowing clouds of mercury mix,
ever so purely
with the rhythmic thumps of your tired heart
easing my limp liveliness further into your surrendered slough.

You hastily swallow the bitter current of morning
on the back of your tongue.
Your delicate touch sends,
a drug seeping to the very capillaries of my finger
saturating every cell with your hazy gaze.


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