Again I find myself staticPanicking with baited breathA butter sculpture in your sun soaked garden(I
Again I find myself staticPanicking with baited breathA butter sculpture in your sun soaked garden(I had thought myself ice by now) Goldilocks, meltingSmothering emerald grass beds with dripping gobs of yellow fleshPlanted firmly, impatiently waiting for you to tend to meTo redefine my featuresTo Smooth my expansesTo Round my curves The garden is familiarIts perfume triggers my gag reflex Its thorns prick me with intentUntil everything is Pollocked blood brownThe fence is caked; the shrubs, drownedHow did I end up here again? Did I ever leave?Did I ever want to?Gardener, give me your skinAnd I will hide in it from the harsh sunbeamsGive me your handsAnd I will gather my own wads of fat off the floor and clump it all back togetherGive me your feetAnd I’ll jump the fence and run as far as they will take meI will run until I forget that I am nothing out here in the worldUntil I deceive myself into believing I am anything more than a butter sculptureDeliquescing, gracelessly, on astroturf -- source link
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