Cous Cous Et Toi?

       


Cous Cous et toi?

I could feel my hands trembling as I walked up to the front door. Beads of sweat pricked my neck; I wasn’t sure what to say. I’m falling but he won’t catch me. 

Catch me.

I feel a haunting whenever I stare. This cold sick feeling, but I dismiss it. You fill my dreams with your stare, longing yet cold. I’m not a poet but I want to write you a poem, I want your name to escape my lips in sweet melody. “Is this love?” I chuckle to myself. You’d think I’d have learned by now. Sharpened my instincts to a fine point. “I’m a lover”, I tell myself. How tragic.

I should dream of dandelions in a sunny field. But I hate bees; I should hate you.

Saints oh saints please come to my rescue. Rescue me from my befuddled thoughts. My thoughts are like webs. This sounds like a poem, s o  h e r e’ s   o n e  f o r  y o u:

“I like your hair, and your nose oh so little

Your smile smells like roses, got me singing la vi en rose – s?

Your laughter sounds like glass, oh honey I’m not joking

But call me SAINt JHN cause anything can happen and I’m your cup bitch

I kid, I want to lick your teeth and face

Your smile is like angels singing

Your voice is cinnamon and I’m a pancake

This got weird

Carmen Flingstone”

- This article was sponsored by brie bread.