A couple of poems

white horse aka mtswanberg aka sorry i didnt post anything ever ever ever


This slope has me now
the simple pleasure of talking
on my back on your bed

there were no blankets
but something like blood
on your comforter

I could not have just imagined
this the walls never stopped
shouting
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx


You said that you were come
then kissed my lips
as a sparrow
you flitted and carried me
into your bed

The silver of my fillings
Fell faithless to a pillow
The nest of all our stories
Was warm and damp and full
At last
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

If only for an hour
I would like to be the back
of your hand

I would rub inside your pocket
get scratched at after mosquitoes
left

I would quickly learn to pray
To the hottest of water – to soap
From the kitchen to the sky over heard