Aught, no. 4 (2000)
Emily SunderlandAdjectives for Coffee
Stirring
black
coffee I see myself
Like in your pupils
when Im red and raging
or plain staring
Floating inside the blue bands
and your skin
especially your neck
smells like dew on blossoms at night
when you undress
you throw it all on the
floor
And I
unravel
into a thousand honest
pieces
watching you come toward me
more than the bed is too big
for the rope that we wind into like
you hate snakes
but Im not sorry I pretended to see one
that day in the woods when we
and I got bug bites on my god
I say to myself as I
take a sip of my coffee.
Copyright © 2000, by the author. All rights
reserved.
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