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Description
sometimes you want to spit out your teeth
because you’ve been grinding them so hard
under a diaphanous coating of crimson lipstick;
but you know the floors already freckled with confetti-
aluminum and glass and paper-
and the eburnean pearls tucked away in your mouth
are not able to be recycled

and sometimes it’s rivulets on the back of your neck,
droplets dripping like honey,
because the rooms heating up from people swarming like bees;
as your cheeks burgeon like crimson roses
your oversized sweater becomes your only source of safety-
maybe from the constant touch of others,
as they bump around like lost passengers at a train station,
or maybe protection from those seeking pollination

you see mouths painted
with the liquid limerence, the daunting dalliance,
of any boy or girl with a tongue;
as their veins pump with effervescent liquid,
and their hearts turn to corks and bottle caps,
you can’t help but wonder what it’s like
to dance with something other than your feet

and sometimes it’s a rock in the bottom of your stomach
that causes you to take a seat;
as you cough up pieces of pebbles,
brackish water fills the veined rivers of your hands-
you skip the pebbles in the sapphire sea of people
only to realize you’re the center of the ripple,
as all the intoxicated seem to want a word
with the only sober person in the room