I’m pulsing;
Coffee smokes out from my pores.
There’s a small fur ball at the centre of my brain and
Powerful air-movements emanate from it.
It is you.
You are my secret animal, smuggled over the border.
I hide you in my mind, bring you out when I’m bored,
Pick lovingly over you, tangle your hair,
Wipe mud into the skin on your face,
Tear bramble-scratches and animal claw prints onto
Your body.
I’m throbbing, I’m ready, I’m waiting.
Are you?
Even my organs are black and gritty from this drug.
I think we’ll drink wine so fast we’ll stop
Having to swallow, we’ll just place it
In front of us and it’ll fall into place beside our atoms.
So we’re made of wine
- your eyes are smashable glass, I want
to lick them -
And we’ll tumble over each other in a
Childish ball, on, on, up the stairs,
And then suddenly thrown together, a
Radiant sphere, touched.

And we’ll wake up the next morning and
Wipe away the scars from the night before,
And yes, I suppose it’s something like love.