There is a child 

swimming in my arteries, 

listening to Grimm brother stories, 

whispering in thunder nights 

A thousand secrets I wish to erase .

Moving in circles I listen 

To her haunted laugh 

And hide it in candy wraps

Along with my sour poems.

There is filth under my toes 

so that I can claim 

my territory of pain 

Where clay pigeons sing 

the poems of Darwish in

their soothing voice.

Blood bubbles bloom under

my pale nails ,

Your white silence drumming 

In my ears. 

My tears moves through 

neon drainage pipes 

while I reapply my 

raspberry red lipstick

in the bathroom, 

tryinf to loosen my throat 

so that I can say "am fine ".

Dried rose petals excavated

under my teeth, 

lined with your coffee breath 

in my pale lips.

Sitting in a pseudo French restaurant 

I find your lips dripping poetry

with an ease of a ballerina, 

your warm honey glow 

I try to hold in my 

salty palm, forever .

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