A spark
they still call hatred,
but the scent of sweetness
hides underneath,
the perfect match of wit
and struggle.
He shoves.
She slaps.
He welcomes pain.
It feels like love.
Stinking, crazy,
hurtful love.
Episode 71 – This Year’s Girl
Bleeding,
on sheets
so clean
I smell the rain.
Barefoot,
at the picnic
even the serpent
is happy to see me.
Beckoned
by your smile,
flowers spill
across my skirt.
Buoyed
by your memory,
I float
upon the surface.