nocturnal emissions

up at 4 am
again,
bathed in salt
not necessarily the healing kind
sweat and gooseflesh
i am being preserved
in preparation for what?
fine, then
i’d like to be a pelagic
pisces
i am not a bottom feeder
(well, okay, sometimes i am)
or if i am to be pickled
in my own brine
perhaps
a festive little
onion
i am fragrant now
in the process of this transformation
body melting,
bubbling and expanding,
i am taking up more space
in my head
in my bed
the puppy won’t sleep with me anymore
lest i scald her
and i whisper, lovingly
to my sweet sweet girl
honey,
i love you so
but get your
hot hand
off
me
now
i am transforming
and i’m not sure what form
you will find
in the morning

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