messy

My poem, “messy” tells a sordid story and I’ll share two stanzas:

I like tight sheets

clean sheets

crisp sheets

I like fresh-from-the-line smelling sheets

I shouldn’t lie on these sheets

dread heats my jittery bones

my pores whisper smoke, shiver flame

hair singes and curls

my skin crackles

feet track soot through his bedroom to his bed

where I want to lie

burrow in a cover with his cat

© 16 June 2019

Cindy B. Stevens

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