It is the natural law
It will happen
Girls will be married off
Because they have to naturally marry.
When he stepped in
poltergeists of shouldn't haves tore my muslin membranes of discretion.
Meant walking away,
closing the door click shut, quiet
the little trap door of vermilion skin slipping
slithering, the being inside
can't make up her mind.
What women want is simple
acknowledgement of hysteria as legit.
Because paranoia is when
the drop of water, sliding crystal ball of twinkle lights and sparkling clear
on smooth brown skin
feels like the circuitous invasion of snails.
They leave indelible tracks that cannot be bleached sterile.
My hand doesn't write as fast as my naturally female emotional thoughts
when my pencil loses the second syllable.
This is my desire for erasability
Not the wash-offability of ink
the fake glee of royal blue
the little glue
of a smile that keeps humanity together.
When he slipped in yesterday
I pretended like I wanted nipple-twisting
Cracking, uncraving open fissures ka ching!
The swirl in the toilet bowl is not his
this thing I try so had to retrieve and eject
the thing naturally racing to break the eggshell
tadpoles swimming in yolk red.