torn labels

Australia bends and wiggles,
a soft coastline of kahlua hair.

& inland,
that’s th good stuff,

                where breast milk makes brown cows,

that’s worth another drink.

Finding where th pressure of 200-lbs of canada feels best -
on a couch from behind;

tongueing th sweat salty   like vegemite     off her neck.

Stars bust nuts and jack johnson is in th moon.
She spends northern nights in a bikini.
Flecks of coral in her eyes.

                Waves of red wine down throats and
                i feel like iv lived on th’ocean my whole life,
                drifting up and down towards th golden horizon
                of her shoulder.

(a fine balance we made th world
for years
in far away continents
as rivers to oceans,
snowpants to capris
spruce trees to denim seas;

and now
candle wax to time zones
mad white beaches flicker
as we body surf th carpet)

# posted by hardyf : 13:44