Rainbow of Sins II

Rainbow of Sins II 

You’re the kind of blood poisoning 

women beg for – 

the sweet burn of you 

like fire red whiskey 

sliding down a desolate core. 

My armor is made of rain-soaked, 

tangerine rolls of linen paper. 

Yet underneath all the yards, 

you should see my cast-iron shell,

painted in an apricot coat of resilience. 

Near the light house, we could lie 

naked, wrapped in sheets, in the sand

since everyone around us 

would be too busy gazing at a golden torch 

that’s not meant for them.

Farther away, there are emerald blossoms 

that can turn into confetti 

with a single drop of my liberation. 

The rain always tastes better in Rome.

I’ve learned that indigo ink 

is permanent, only if it’s used 

more on an early, almost lover 

rather than a beloved mother. 

Violet violence is the good kind. 

that’s when I’m bedecked 

by that real kind of love 

that sticks like jelly

then hardens into amethyst.  

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