Pixie Talk

by Rafi Miller

Lie with me

                        to me

Beneath a phoenix sun

lend me your magnifying glass

let’s burn ants and watch them struggle up

from their ashes

Blue smoke curls from our lips as

The ash from our shared cigarette falls

on their dead little heads

Dmitri, dahling, isn’t it just so wonderful

-ly pointless?

What should we do with our day?

There’s another bottle of wine left

there has to be

No?  Well let’s just run to the shore

To stare at the sharp steel of the horizon

let it laugh at us
remind us

we mean nothing, we are

nothing

Where the salty winds will

burn my cuts

Shift the seas

in my favor

                        my favor

Do me a favor? 
Rub your buttercup
On my chin

                        you dirty bastard

Imbue hues of crumbling pollen on bare skin

                        tell me you love me, liar, liar!

Let’s just lie
Let’s stick spoons in the lemon chiffon
Lick white-hot sugar from our lips 

make faces at the fat maid

behind her fat back

Come on
It will be fun
cum on

Dos Sisters in Meh-hee-co

by Rafi Miller

We are together in Mexico but you alone are the epicenter of a testosterone storm cloud.

A thunderous burst of mariachi music:   

Men dance the cockroach (stompspin, stompspin) and we’re stuck, two white girls without rhythm.

You press your lips together and they swell with sex:

Eat me

I’m a pink-frosted cupcake

Take a lick

You dare them.  Don’t even need to say a word before they rain down:

howls and ow-ows that hurt as they pelt my skin.

I am in the way.

Figures:

 I am twice your size, after all.

This flood of men falls upon us, on you.  You laugh, flipping your amber waves of perky blonde, an American flag flapping for the beautiful, dear sister, fucking bitch.

Their pick-up lines snap sharp, drag on.  Crunchy, cheesy: 

I want a Taco Bell crunch wrap. 

I’m sure you could order your usual:

burrito sans meat, cheese, beans, or tortilla.

Caught in the undertow, you stand tall but clutch my hand. 

Your bird-bone elbows flap flail as we swim away through spiced smoke. 

You doggie paddle, breaststroke(d). 

Their eyes stick to you.  Flies

doomed to jerk, t-t-twitch on rich skin.

I lose you in the crush of the crowd, unseen in your shadow. 
But I find a smile burns away the salt that rims my lips, as the sweat of one stranger
licks down
my spine.