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Mira Fox Poem
My limbs unlax,
stress leaking from my body and
collecting like a basin of a
candle’s freshly melted wax;
One inhale of the plastic casket,
which burns judgingly in my back pocket,
is enough to dredge up the relaxation
my dreary, dramatic life has lacked,
smacking me in my temples
with a dopamine-injected hand.
An inhale, a flurry of smoke,
smolders holes in my lungs
until it constricts and chokes
me, until its disguised benignant nature
reveals its true form;
Stimulants create my deliquesce,
allowing my brain much-needed bliss,
but in a fine, descript disclaimer
written in purposefully disappearing ink, it’s
benevolence whispers addiction.
Copyright © Mira Fox | Year Posted 2025
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Details |
Mira Fox Poem
Under the weeping willow,
I sit in seeping soil
on my knees
as I carve into trees,
to engrave our love naturally—
Do you do the same for me?
Under the loved leaves,
I lay in degloved detachment
upon your feet
as you attempt to leave,
to sacrifice myself indefinitely—
Do you do the same for me?
—inspired by Love Communion in FUNK
Copyright © Mira Fox | Year Posted 2025
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