Cheetos
I hear your music in the ocean,
it is tempting confessions of my rabid mind
that may be kind or dreadful. Is there a difference?
I hear your words and see it on your face,
in your eyes, the jaw clenching, and the tongue poking into the inside of your cheek.
Hate.
You look away.
I hear your slights under a loving breath,
The breath, I no longer want to breathe.
Quack grass pull party
is one way to discover
a slicing plasmatic explosion
of love honey.
Drip Drip Drip
I didn’t want to quit the pearl sugar show.
Someone gave me hot cheetos.
You know they burn a hole in your stomach
Was it love?
.
Stink Eye Magazine 