Plating The Storm (52/6)


A thousand bitter lemon crystals river dance on my lips
Bittersweet like the memory of a broken engagement on valentines day
I can only wince with the rhythm and blink for breath

Trinidadian scorpions fire lasers at the roof of my mouth
My pupils flash hazard warning lights the colour of a vitmain C overdose
I am gushing with fire like a stroppy volcano on a sugar high

Is this the revolution or is snow the solution?
Am I wholly ghost?
Is this human?

Rubbing my eyes would only increase the burn
From what insights can I learn?
I could shout at a twister
Enlist the incestuous expletive
Become the hands full of brassiere ripping energy
Yet this rain I’m in debted to

See my mandible is now prance able
If this is dance or die then I am ready to rumble
Get my shoes and set the table
Plunder me with the fantasy of Venus and Neruda
This I demand
Now that I have tasted thunder


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