cherry chapstick
your room smells like incense.
your hair smells like coconut shampoo.
fingernails sprinkled with glitter.
you taste like pretzels and cherry chapstick.
get off the computer for ten f***ing minutes.
come over here so i can touch you.
your skin under my fingers
is like a dream,
is this really happening?
ani stares down at us from her perch on the wall,
face plastered on glossy paper.
we're lying on the floor,
looking up at the glittery plastic glow in the dark stars
like they are really the night sky,
like the rug is dewy grass in the summertime.
i prick my finger on one of the spikes
protruding from your head.
"ouch," i said, and you laughed,
while ani sings our movie soundtrack.
too bad no one's filming.
and you kissed me, our second kiss.
i remember the feeling,
cherry chapstick,
your wet tongue in my mouth.
when you bit my lip you giggled.
you did it on purpose.
it hurt but i liked it.
