Blast Paradise

Bubble burns and

Cream-sickles drift from the

Sky in a heap of bursting bliss, creep

on my spine in a cluster of

pin-pricking trinkets, sprinkle my

Neck with rose-thorn nectar and collect

Irrevocable residue on my cherry

-Painted lips.

The Soup Spill

I crawl up your

Bowl,

Brush past the

Brim,

Up over the

Rim,

and dribble onto your

Neatly polished floor.

My stains whirl across your

Surface

in a pool of

Swirling pearls;

I sink my teeth into your

Boards,

My permanent marker magic trick.