Nude

We're refugees

inside the purple

angular

-speak good English when your with me-

sublingually sighted

section

of the stage that we've dreamed this fight of ours on.

Is it because I feel you so deeply that all of this must be true?

If time and time again I prove my double jointed-ness; would it prove my unwanted way with words more strongly.

I'm nude in the midnight

blue

of you

and

I guess that I like it that way;

just like I like the fact that I can't stay still for long.

I've already been condemned

confronted

and conflicted

because of your skin

and my skin

(but let the others win)

I'm sick

-to death-

of the idea of sin

and how

I'll always be swallowed up by it

(I'm just one of Gods good little refugee girls

giggling

over what she knows

and sees everyone else clueless of.)

I like the way that you curl

between my fingertips

with your eyes closed

when

eventually

you get the crazy chance to swim inside of me

(an already sunken vessel)

and your toes curl

into kisses

for me.

Nude

we

are

before

each other

as

we

are

before

God-

what I saw

maybe

something raw

now

in the hour of my death-

I just want to be free

of my position

in life

staring down the Space Needle

with my black kitten heels on

or how

I smoked a cigarette

made of anti-American

bullshit

and the anti-depressants that the doctors put me on after the accident

while

I sat

nude

against the glass

(take a look!

from

me

that's

as far

deep

you'll get

past my skin

-I

let

no

one

in-

except for you.)

We're refugees

inside the purple

nude

light

lingering

across skin

(like sin

I'll never be rid of myself,

I just hang around

like my smile

when you crack a joke.)

If you're something that I don't already have

then I want you; (bad)

or just a taste

long enough

to tease me;

I want a love so tender

that it bleeds

for me.

Maybe I just need the purple to dim

or the rain to stop

or the

sun to

drop from the sky

to burn me

into asking why

I feel the things that I do

because

God

knows

that I don't confide in myself anymore.

I'm just here

with the smell

of you

hovering

near the window sill

purple

from your twinkling eye lids

shut

to slumber

in my bed

because tonight

like me

(refugees we are)

you have no where else to go.