Earthly Pleasures!
Can’t stop thinking about your mouth
creepy like a Sunday evening behind the pub where they keep the bins
standing too close among the bubbled heaps of rubbish, frissons of breath run
faster than the fraudulent sweetness from the weekend’s beer, heaped in shining glass coffins
is this going to begin with the smell of sour hops and
then it doesn’t start, be still my stupid speeding heart, watch you walk away once
and again, you text me at an unwise hour, are you thinking about doing something dumb?
I hope you don’t know how easily you could convince me to dump my brain in that back alley
love’s lemming, must this end one way or another or could I keep
the fierce sherbet crush hopping on my tongue? Put it down, that’s dirty
your pockets are full of sticks and stones, kiss me now or end it
(please don’t end it.)
Smile at me in the street and we start again.
Daisy Harris
Daisy Harris Poetry 