pieces of a poem

[starfrosting]

btwn yr smooth folded fingers, tan from sailing
would you press that sprig of basil behind my ear
like some proud brown youth, golden oiled skin
smelling like honey, licorice vapors + sun
so i move through tavernas yr boy,
hear the songs strummed + that amethyst in my pocket pressing up against my thigh
could i move nobly,
my muscles lithe aching remembering some
kouros rites wood hard against my knees
leather knots + olive trees

Comments

[corium.livejournal.com]

i don't think you've ever written something i didn't like.
when's the new zine going to be ready & coming to my house?

[starfrosting.livejournal.com]

well damn :)

It needs a cover. And an intro. And I might add another flat to make room for some cyborg love poems my friend sent me. But soon...say, not too long after solstice?