THREADCOUNT

Ambition Heaven

Hi everybody’s pleasure, I will not
be you, to be in foreground
meant growing some edges so
I left you behind but see see
where to stroke me, now you know.


*


Questions or Quatrains

Pregnant with death   till I die
And am delivered
Of   whatever got me pregnant
Hand terribly asleep

I kiss you hundred times
I kiss you more
Cervix migrated to where it gets banged on, hurts
I wanted coffee

My guy clung to doing right thing, his
Make-up round, or test
Flung me on flights in the mundane
Sheets very stained

I flooded them. Plus blood
From period. Of is
Abstract louche connector
From‘s in time, starts

Where things used to be
I also too was from
Time in folds of field or flesh
Prodded my flagpole there

Oh he moved, a shock of warm
Gold clock of name
Anchored my ice
He keeps on being temporary

I am thought of not comfortably
Must give more comfort
Lower back now pressed to his
In my from is

The labor might I do
In time in front of you
You ascend to audience/audensity
As I commit our boundary