coffee / by Dahlia Dandashi

she comes out to play on wednesday evenings

hot yellow flames breaching out from the top of her head,

hungry like a blood thirsty gator.

no waterfront will save you.

i have not had my coffee in fucking days. 

i am only desirable for so long. i burn the timber even before it is able to hold roots.

i eat your compliments in every meal of the day,

faster than you can drown in boring tepid water

faster than you can make me a decent cup of coffee.

lovely? lovely was my mother.

the oven between my thighs stay hot and angry. it says 'caution: stay away.'

i live in stasis, my arms and i, only coming out on wednesday nights so we can evade the crowd.

but you keep asking me about my day, and all i'm dreaming about disappearing in that bag of beans. 

my lack of interest is my vice,

my emerald eyes always out with a full set of teeth.