She would writhe
struggling in her form as the stolen breath came seeping from her ribs bending; bending around her beating heart.
Her mother warned her about this moment in her life.
The clock above her above the headrest above the mahogany headrest,
ticked ever so slowly like cold molasses dripping from the four to the five and dripping down to the sixth mark to show her that only ten seconds had passed.
god god God?
her luscious hips
we swore her hips were like water rippling violently in every direction.
Toward the stars.
Towards Ursa Minor.
Dropping down slowly to Argentina.
all were witness to this potentially beautiful moment where she loses everything.
This was all just for fun
Blowing the flame from the candle, for its luminescence stretched into every deep crevice and corner of the room
until her shriek killed the moment;
how terrible of her! Doesn’t she understand?
“Ouch ouch don’t ouch no.”
Lay with her and ask her anything?
She will tell you that she was studying to be an RN before flying to London for a year,
and that she is terrified to losing her baby brother and sister because-
“Ouch. Please. no.”
Stroke the strands of hair upon the very, absolute top of her delicate head
at the top of the fontanel because
She loves it.
It’s only (insert hour) because the sun is not up and her arms are
and the men put on their shirts and button their slacks and sling their ties around the neck like garbs
like emperor Caesar dazzling triumphant upon the chariot waving amongst the bodies of the coliseum.
Red doors shut in front of her
She walks to the couch to touch it with her face
Gripping the arm of the velvet couch to find something pure.
Her stomach churned.
The man had left.
Corporeal love, where did you go?