The Mmm of Her – Nicole on FC

I was convinced she was crazy
and I couldn’t stand the pitch of her voice
but for the way she would say, “Mmmm”
when I told her about the thoughts,
and how they pummelled me darkly.
I liked the Mmmm of her, the way
it brought out the whites of her eyes,
and I wondered as they closed
if they were watching her thoughts
as closely as they watched mine…

Read the rest here:  The Mmm of Her

Muted Grape and Spiced Wine

I hang suspended,
hot inside the cool tones
of muted grape dreams,
where the reds of a spiced wine
seep past my lips
to dance upon yours.
You are beautiful,
in the hues of my passion,
and I could be beautiful
beneath you, in foreign lands,
and within your secrets,
until I come home reeking
of lavender and my undoing,
and cursing the moon for casting
its heavenly glow a world away.

© Nicole Lyons 2017

Something Achingly Beautiful

Love was never easy
because suffering was
never optional.
But there was something
gorgeous in the act
of arching backs writhing
in anticipation of ripping
hearts from chests,
something achingly beautiful
in the brutality of it all.

© Nicole Lyons 2017

 

No Trespassing

He pitched himself onto me,
inside of me; somehow
his smooth laugh
and the electric blue
of his necktie cut a path
through the underbrush
beneath my skirt,
and I liked the way
his jacket caught the breeze
when he hung it
on your no trespassing sign,
and how he sighed so deeply
when the blues in his pocket
gave way to his shadow,
and wiped me clean again.

© Nicole Lyons 2017

Ladders

They build ladders
from my spine
and they climb
and they fall
and they break me,
and then they climb
again.

© Nicole Lyons 2017

Cast That Messy Shine

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I like dirty hearts
and restless minds,
the old souls that
have known hard lives;
the ones who cast
the most beautiful shine.

© Nicole Lyons 2017

Have Your Muse, I’ll Have My Whiskey

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Write your poetry and chew
the words that curdle
in your mouth or spit
them at me, I want
to know how it feels to
slide down my own face.
Am I still pretty
in the back of your throat?
No, you prefer me
streaking down my chin,
all narcissistic and gooey
mingling with the love things
you hate so much.
Spit me out, and step on me.
I will stick to the bottom
of your shoe and perhaps
you can look away
when you scrape your sole
against the edge of the curb
outside your bedroom window,
and when I dry up in the night.
I was pretty there,
in the back of your throat,
and you could have made
a home beneath my fingernails.

© Nicole Lyons 2017

Love Sense in Weary Scents

I have been covered
in easy kisses
from uneasy lips
and I know I
smell weary again.

© Nicole Lyons 2017

Poets and Whores

And that is the nature
of us poets and whores,
to make things hard:
dicks, choices… life.

© Nicole Lyons 2017

Days Gone By

I want to love you
but my bones have
turned to dust from days
gone by, when happiness
was easy and my eyes
still knew how to shine.

© Nicole Lyons 2017