lemon peel

I want to be soft,
jeweled,
like fine china
sipped antiquity
brotheled smut
I want my navel
to expand
each time I think of you
I want my skin
to turn to sand
and slip between
your weathered hands
I want my eyes to land
inside your mouth
so you can see
I carry innocence
abysmal purity
beside sharp shards
warm milk
old wounds
still bleeding

I want to be hard,
cooked,
seasoned and devoured
smoked dust
in the bottom of bluegreen waters
warm waves
frothed
like bits of sifted spit
metaphors drowned in solitude
want your legs
wrapped round my middle
deft fingers
sunk deep
pierced peel
in secret forts

can you see
how love healed me?
can you feel how love
killed me?

 

 

 

under red lights

What does it feel like to not be able to write,
or paint, or dance, or sing, or dance etc…???

Like caging up a hummingbird…that’s how

 

you’ve put me under red lights
stung the roof of my mouth
with the rind of an orange
you twisted and heaved
while we kissed/
your hands mimic forks
pricking bloodied flesh
slathered with insolence
you eat
until the last drop of innocence
is satisfied/
thirst quenched
nutrients
run lush
with direction/
you’ve loved me under red lights
and stung the roof of my mouth
with the rind of an orange
you twisted and chewed
while we kissed/
you watched the sun go down inside my eyes
choked the sunset out of me
you’ve loved me under red lights
and stung the roof of my mouth
with the rind of an orange
you twisted and chewed
while we kissed/
frothed pastry mounds
cream insides
you suck out
I’m trying really hard, see
to feel that warmth
that comes from crowded rooms
that warmth
that comes with winter
when hibernation
makes your face rotund
your hands like warm bread
your mouth like hot rum

 

 

Ingrid is a refugee that scribbles nonsense and makes it into verse. She hopes it resonates. Her goal is to be an anonymous voice that cuddles the masses. You can find her on Twitter @BrujaLamatepec