Lindsey Walker

Priére de toucher

 

the dome of night throbs

black licorice,

alive and bursting at the seams.

you have commanded my hips,

dominated my lips.

my tongue rejoices when

i taste your kiss.

press your mouth warm

against my skin.

i’m flushed and i tremble and

i’ve numbered all my sins.

now this velvet crush of evening

has descended-

i can hear Ol’ Scratch moaning low

tapping the glass out my window.

the moonlight through cheap blinds

makes patterns on your skin.

you sleep like an angel-

heaven is jealous and so am i.

a lover’s insomnia,

and i ask myself why

this feeling of awkward anxiety,

like walking in on a scene i shouldn’t see

as i watch your chest rise and fall.

how strange, how exquisite,

body languid,

and i wonder what surreal landscape

dances behind your closed lids.

 

Frankie

 

Frankie hit the road in a dead man’s Cadillac

She had shades on her eyes and her hair was slicked back

She tasted fear on her tongue, and she felt ashamed

She turned down Blood Alley, ignoring the rain

Frankie hit the road in a dead man’s Cadillac

 

 

 

 

 

 

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