From the Lavvy with Love

Anna Ghislena


“Lollipop.  Perfume.”

Hand in hand

face to face

door rattles, shut.

Contours merge

in nightclub glow

greasy dim as candlelight.

Kisses wide

such wolfish need

ravenous for new territory.

Stinging taste

aching touch

fiery sweet and syrupy.

“Lollipop.  Perfume.”

Frigid tiles scorch fevered skin

heat radiates

salty wet

bleach fuses musky scent

hand-dryer drowns

urgent breath.

Fingers braced

across gloss paint

blindly trace cacography.

Backed up hard

on wisdom’s words

penned in fibres

scratched in verse:

Exit light, enter shite

Every Hole’s A Goal

Just tonight,

then cold tomorrows.

Just tonight

these walls proclaim

you just lost the game

 everything will be ok in the end

Oh, and

Roger’s dad is gay



© Anna Ghislena 2015

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