Starla tastes of strawberries

Everyone follows with covered eyes

I sit at his feet and swallow the Gita

Clouded vision and cobra-choked

Breathing exhaled prayers and smoke

He fails to see that I am not his Sati

This blind belief of silent truths

I watch as his throat turns blue

And give myself as I've been told

Third eye opened to behold

Another thing I can no longer do

I fell for his words

poor spelling and forgotten punctuation

soft brown skin and crooked teeth

indifferent political views

I curled into the warmth

of his terrible mathematics

the green flickers in his eyes

the fact he never wears shoes

and has never read a book

school was a chore

and we couldn't be more different

if we tried with every fibre

every tendon

every breath

he wants to build his own house

or live in a van

I can't have children and he wants an army

we fight everyday

and make love twice

too lost in each other to remember why

our dreams are made of bright colours

strobe lighting and lust

coated in whisky

and dropped into white water

he draws on my skin

with eye-liner pencils

and permanent marker

words that are senseless

and pictures of nothing

I wash them away every morning

words than run along my body

and vanish into sewers

I fell for his words

child-like handwriting

soft kisses and promises

I fell