mother of pearl

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And so scarlet,

you are beautiful as black man’s teeth, colors of trumpet, shoe polish, and marble pool.

Shh, says the town’s needlework, starting a red thread trail down my chest.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

I’m a short drink of water,

a gulp, the opposite of runner’s thirst. I slip into your coffee.

I want to be the lime cooling your salad,

I want to be the spoon and the fork. Oh preacher,

just thinking about you splits my lip down the middle.

What if, says your high-collared shirt, clinging to the back of your spine.

You are beautiful as chocolate kiss foil, colors of altar, stained glass, and lifted eyes