I'll stop the world and melt with you
because it's spinning too fast
strands of hair whip our faces
get stuck in open mouths
filled with confetti laughter
pieces of color dance in the air
like seeds looking to root in the stars
the ride plays music from the 80s
purple glitter cars spin and twist
thighs touch, sticking together
like candy apples on a white cotton t-shirt
crimson stains flush,
heat rises and subsides
a wave,
a rush, tickling, climbing, entering,
brought closer
under a cloud of popcorn
hot salt tasted on perfumed necks
a yogic pose
melts, melds, fastens us together
like a pair of 501 jeans.

No comments:
Post a Comment