notes I just felt like trying out poetry one night. For the ficathon: comm-ficathon dot livejournal dot com/
prompt Funny you're the broken one but I'm the only one who needed saving.
POWER PILLS
When the sun yawns, so she does too,
a roaring lion licking her lips like a kitten,
like a Judith with an insatiable lust. There are cracks
along her skin held together again with crazy glue
and will, a glass dreidel with a steel tip carving out
the Grand Fucking Canyon. She experienced her own Big Bang
and placed her shaking atoms back into their place
despite not knowing the map, not even seeing her Andromeda
until her spine snapped straight. When she sleeps she sighs,
sighs soft and even.
I want to slip her on my tongue like a power pill,
finger her like the pages of a dictionary,
so she can inform me the definition of a sore loser,
and she is clever, so she will point to me while I point to her,
drag a fingernail shooting fireworks across the panes of my chest
where she expects my nuclear heart to be.
Sorry, kiddo, you're too many years too late,
is what I should say,
but I'm afraid she'll stop looking.