by Nikki Allen

Friction Used.
by: Nikki Allen

throwing nonsense at my muses,
giving them everything they want but do not need
patron saint.vixen.
sex as a weapon,
a long long sabre swinging out,
kissing necks of strangers,
tickling the ivories of forbidden keys.
yes, I am quite the catch,
a lady-killin' lady,
laid out on your bed like a goddess
in rumpled sheets and
a black pair of underwear.
if the sun were shining it would
fall across my kneecaps
and you would walk back over
throwing nonsense at my muses.
they abuse my mason-shield,
my lack of dominatrix-qualities.
I am just a girl.
with hair that twirls around my finger,
skin quite smooth to touch and part with.
I am just a body, my sweet,
that happens to house a brain.

I flipped the Hammock.
(the ex-incident)

I was mad at something you said
and I stood up right quick as
my thoughts curled up like
kinked yarn.
I felt the give and
I let it fly as
you opened your eyes
(noticed you were no longer rolling
them at my so-called stupidity).
Like spun sugar unspinning
and furled-hurled fists
unfurling, unhurling,
the pretty white net is bouncing empty
and you're on the ground
like a disfigured moth,
fingers clenching grass as if it too
might give way and send you farther down.
and I just stood and just thought and just breathed.
Even my so-called stupidity has a way
of biting back
and you're getting up, daring to laugh
but the look in your irises is enough
to satisfy.

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