From a Diary of Poison

Flirting fails.
Time stops
lucid
looking
for me to pinpoint
the zero
of a try.
Hurry up 
don’t crash into that bush
and don’t act 
like a drowned worm
in a flooded sandbox.

What’s wrong with you?
she asks
knows
I'm alive
her question
there to poke me
not impervious
to language.
A reaction
would suffice
to crown
her head
her mouth
pleased
with its
thyme-scented
breath.
This sandcastle opens 
for my turtle. 
I found him yesterday.
In my blood
a pulse
doesn't lack
the force
to draw back
recoil
and snap
like a snake
to poison
with a sudden
bite.
Stop! 
You hit something
in the grass!

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