Derrick Brown - Cotton in the Air lyrics

Your polished back is arched like Saint Louis. I can see your fingers pushing into the bricks when I lift your hair to smell October drain from your neck. You are cotton caught in the air I am unfurling laces in your body. I move on you steady like a fleet of ships pushing ice. I want to break it all. Your tank top strap slips down the huh huh of your shoulder and I will not strain meaning from this. I have to taste all of your shapes with my teeth, circles of salt square bu*ter. Waltzing a wrecking ball. I lift your body so that your legs strap to my hips and you are now adorned. I toss you around the room because I don't want to be inside; I want to walk through you. So I can know. I am wading in the dark felt Tijuana paintings of your hair. I am molting my bed clothes uncoiling towards Sahara. All I want to do is hot lust you into dead sweat. To watch your legs, those bent sickles, to watch them shake like poisoned wrens. I am gnashed and dazzled. Smother me in the exhausted thrust of your yes. . . . wet as exploding laundromats. You will be rough-balanced and throne-s**ed and tongue-dozed hard. A straggler you can't shake from your open-air lava solo. May I be the image you turn to when you are heaving alone, burning like Halloween in Detroit? I am breathing up your legssssspitting at the hiding nightingale. Drift your breasts into my mouth and I will be that doped up, spinning victrola. La la la la la la. I want to make love to you while you're wearing figure skates until the hardwood floors are toothpicks. I want to kiss your throat in a dressing room with my hands bound around your voice. I want you to leave your boots on in your apartment so we march our bodies across the ceiling and confuse the neighbors. I don't care if you made that dress, I will shred it until you look deserted. You're as restless as a New Orleans graveyard in a storm with the coffins boiling up to the surface. That's all this writing is. You are across from me and the soup is cooking. I sit up all night listening to your dental records. I will teach you of exorcism and screw the hell out of you. I will carry your steam in my mouth. Daydreaming of the evening of loud struggle. Call my name—I will cascade like a suicide. I will fall upon you like a box of fluorescent bulbs dropped from a five-story building. I will do anything you ask. . . . unless I have been drinking; then it is opposite day I can't believe you can sleep through all this. Chunks of brick in your fingernails. Mortar on your pillow A bomb shelter sketched on your skirt. Safe.