after all those sleepless nights
i figured it out.
I'm not sick without you
I don't even miss you.
a piece of our sex is stuck in my sinuses;
like a virus is.
i can't remember how it felt to be inside you,
but i can taste it when i spit.
Your sweat a carnal vinaigrette,
lips like mandarin oranges swimming in rose-water.
Soufflé sighs and martini moans.
pallet full, stomach empty.
Your face is a white blur, no black, maybe grey
no
all these are too colorful.
You're a shapeless cloud of vapor
Refracting headlights on winding lonesome roads in my mind.
Perfume.
Au' du recklessness,
an earthy mix of lavender and salamander slime.
lakewater and sublime sing-alongs.
santeria love potion number 9.
An immigrant was walking, walking towards me
I said " stop right there!, and observe and see"
Where is your taxes and wages you earned?
Then again Uncle Sam will never learn
Keep em' out this holy country land
But who will build this border at hand?
Maybe it be Pepe or Maria
Or the west indians practicing Santeria
And that was very racist of me
But then again this is the land of liberty
For freedom of all that is your right
To make a paycheck cuz meeting ends is tight
So love an immigrant you'll be surprised
And if they say they don't speak english, well that's just a lie
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.