Moon Cactus

I dreamt of you, again. It’s been years, but in my sleep I

recalled every feature of your fine pale face, and the guttural tone

of your voice. I could smell you;

I held my breath against the scent of menthol ciggies and

gin and tonic sticking to your saliva.

 

I spent the night with your phantom

banging around inside my head. Now that I’m awake, I

convince myself all over that I hate your pretty fucking being,

because you’re interesting to look at, vivid red like a piece of exotic fruit.

 

I want to split you open and see your insides, have a taste of your heart. I

want to do this even knowing the stingy itch of your spines.


© 2019 Kindra M. Austin

9 Comments Add yours

  1. Kindra M. Austin says:

    Reblogged this on Kindra M. Austin.

    Like

  2. bobcabkings says:

    In the night they come
    Unfinished lovers
    Not fully revealed
    Still holding secrets
    All the knowing why
    Estrangement had to be
    Deters the givers of dreams
    Not one whit

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Kindra M. Austin says:

      ❤ ❤ ❤

      Liked by 1 person

  3. bobcabkings says:

    Reblogged this on cabbagesandkings524 and commented:
    Kindra M. Austin – Prickly Phantom

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Kindra M. Austin says:

      Thank you!

      Liked by 1 person

  4. Silent Hour says:

    When that happens…

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Kindra M. Austin says:

      Like

  5. Sometimes, we just can’t, shake loose, of these memories, that haunt us…

    Liked by 1 person

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