art, poetry

Bouquets

I keep on trying to say
goodbye
but flowers
won’t stop blooming between
my teeth,

So I’ve found myself
a florist
who carries no pieces
of you.

Now
I don’t need the bars
across my bedroom
windows,

Nor take care
not to step on
shattered ego.

And she
doesn’t hold her broken heart
to my throat

Or
chase happiness
down freeways.

Instead,
she dances to jazz
and braids my flowers
into her hair,
believing
that they grew
for her.

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art, photography, poetry

Delight

Delight 04102012
He bites her neck.

She bites his lower lip.

He kisses the end of her nose.

She kisses the tip of his chin.

He kisses her right shoulder.

She kisses his left knee.

He kisses her fingertips.

She kisses the palm of his hand.

He kisses her left buttock.

She kisses his left thigh.

He kisses both her eyes.

She kisses both his nipples.

He kisses under her arms.

She kisses behind his ears.

He kisses her hair.

She kisses his toes.

He kisses her elbow.

She kisses the crook of his arm.

He kisses her mouth.

She kisses his mouth.

They shut their eyes.

Image © Ashley Lily Scarlett 2012
Text © Ashley Lily Scarlett 1995

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