【by Moira Weinstein】

Pacify my desires like tears!
Of a particularly salty ocean…
One who holds infinite fears
That melt to follow motion.
I lead desire to a room on my left
Where she rots to a hard stone.
You might call this theft—
That’s okay, I’d rather do it alone.
Did you know that blues turn red…
When they see my popcorn ceiling?
“Is it something that I said?”
No, just inherent feeling.
It strikes me like death
You’ve never seen before.
The shallowness of hot breath
Haunts you to your core.
I’ve seen my clothes ruin
A red sock in the dryer.
What beautiful inclusion
The threads have fully tired.

Until they mix again
Like a flask of poisoned potion
I promise that I’ll mend!
Yet I land in that ocean…