Skin

You know that feeling when a way-too-willing tio with sneezy sleezy cats crouches under you, when sinking ceilings bury disfigured bones in basements 2 stories below, when falling skies summon smokes that subtly choke, when rainy copper floods between thighs that sing red while sighing eyes sing blue, when drowning blues bleed blooming catastrophes that loom over those fucking yellow cats, those witchy fucking cats who didn’t talk nearly soon enough as their cutting claws tore apart the brown backs of tia’s withering walls, when zesty striped litters of whiskers howl and hunt the leftover silence, when disturbing hands intrude upon little girls who do not understand what it means to have enticing curls of escaped pubes, when outbreak forms from white cotton undies that diffuse, when militarized tio locks up ancient rooms burned and bruised from wedded battlefields, when juvenility hides in cotton-candy pink barbie lagoons, when truth taints tia's surreal coos, when skin scurries across scarred floors of muddy infidelity, when block party begets pedophile in 2nd floor apartments with fuzzy beige floors flooding defecating mice, when small brown queens cry and scream as they’re led by tio to sleep, when tia's hugs aren’t enough to make you forget, when play dress-up turns into trembling closets performing quiet blushing sounds, when the tearing of the smallest parts in the tiniest cracks hurt and ache, when second-hand jeans fall apart and break, when moles flourish molestation and breed in baby beds, when smooth ageless skin fucks sullied ancient bogeyman, when rotting tradition turns into decaying intuition, when conceived taboos tattoo domestic stooge on tia, when sacred skin secretes sin and shedding skin ceases to thicken.