you are some bitchin virus girl
a tiki queen
slipping in unseen
in my delirium,
set the curtains on fire simply by exhaling
as my arm falls limp towards the dazed plank floor;
where are you going?
in my fever dream, you stepped out of the ganga
i know until now
you haven't quite infected the me you haven't met...
i keep a little chinese box
with my secret name inside,
behind seventeen locks
and a thimble full of pride--
your ivory earrings sway
when you're kissing me that way,