There is a color inside me,
Yellow barbed in my chest,
Fire and bright,
Blooming explosions and we touch….fingers.
It is hard to connect with you,
I want to melt my yellow,
You know, like a spilling yolk,
Think English nurseries and nannies,
Crops, fireplaces and egg cups,
Yellow all warm and sticky down our sides,
I mean our thighs.
My cunt hurts with wanting,
Painful – all pinching and restless.
And all it takes is one airline ticket,
For the pinch to become warm and sticky
Running down our thighs.
Avery Cassell 