As I hum – In this teal suit
Almost congealed to my dark skin.
She paints on lambskin
And bookmarks unfinished art books with Orchids.
With a playful tan line of where her brassiere once was
I’m sure the sun and God took turns painting it there.
Nestled sand beneath dance with me.
As we ascend upwards a never-ending staircase built from books on heaven,
My modelesque figure with the giraffe neck whispers as softly as air…
“You are heaven.
You will never find you”.
Plummet back to hell
As plucked flowers…
We, the Devil’s bed.
© S E U Nx