Pink goo.

 

Until the next eyes
that make my body die
and melt into
a marshmallow fluff of pink goo.
Until my next sigh
when your nose and chin are close enough to smell
moments before possibility,
the first press of new lips.
– skin on skin on skin on skin –

What exhales outside our atmosphere
does. not. matter.
does. not. exist.

a kiss on the forehead – erases memory.

 

Written Tuesday, September 11th, 2012 @ Joe Bar with Jake.

***

***

“Pink goo” was inspired by a line from Marina Tsvetaeva‘s poem, “A kiss on the forehead”.  (1917)

A kiss on the forehead—erases misery.

I kiss your forehead.
A kiss on the eyes—lifts sleeplessness.

I kiss your eyes.
A kiss on the lips—is a drink of water.

I kiss your lips.
A kiss on the forehead—erases memory.

***

(To read other poems I’ve written that germinated from poetry prompts, search for “poetryprompt” in the search box on the right.)

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