Space Between

A study in contrast

The story of these poems: Two short ones today. One is a simple ode to the working day; the other, a sultry, slightly NSFW delight.

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Contents:

1. Space Between

2. Day Job

SPACE BETWEEN

Fuck astronomy,
I’m done with space between my skin and yours.
Pull me down to the Earth,
Get inside me where it’s warm.
My pussy’s a river,
A tropical rainforest,
A low plain in flood season,
The tsunami coastline cowering.
Have no fear,
You won’t drown.
Let me pull you down,
Sink deep where the fish swim,
Where turtles float past shark fins.
Come find hidden coral,
Swim down into the black,
Fuck me like some moonlit beast,
Burn my eyes like an eclipse,
Give your lips to my lips,
Let your pulse quicken for me,
Thicken for me,
Lay me underneath that peaceful reef.

DAY JOB

The laminator will not be rushed.
Slowly,
I feed its fire my hopes,
And it spits out a plan,
A purpose,
Precious order,
Cherished clarity,
So much more than plastic over paper.
It will not be rushed.
Push or pull,
It holds firm,
Keeps its tempo. 
There is nothing to be done
But to join its pace,
Consider my own speed,
Wonder at the difference. 
It will not be rushed,
And its warm mouth invites me 
To set the very same boundary.

Thank you so much for reading my work.

See you next week.