poem: exquisite lust

 

 

Audrey Horne

I want youfireflies lights your eyes, downcast in disgrace

we learnt a clever trick, we talk without words

drink each other until our bellies are full.

By the green language of the woods,

we are the accused.

Do they not know this summer was my salvation?

Speech that nourishes

yet I beg, 

flower-faced touch 

warm and wet.

 

Take this rotting, wretched thing and turn the knife twice.

Thinking of you keeps the memory thick and bright.

I’m your lilac winter girl.

You aren’t mine.