She is happy here

Molasses on her lashes
Blink
Blink 
Stick
Blink
Pressed up against
the paint
a shade
that never went out of style
lips sealed
she couldn't quite
recall the last time 
they had parted
nose
and mouth
debating
who lets the air in
and who pushes it out
the plastic is starting
to hurt
in her ear
but the music
is how she writes
and it flavors
her words
and all writers
want to offer the reader
a good meal
Blink 
Blink 
Stick 
Blink
Her tongue
rolls over her teeth
trying to hug
them all at once
holding out her
pinkie
she wonders
how long
would the clock have to tick
for dust to settle
on her skin
an old newspaper
pages already seeming 
yellow
gives her company 
telling her stories
old stories
head falls back
hinging
staring at the light above
she wonders
how long 
the clock would have to tick
for the bulb to 
dot her face
she is happy here
socks holding hands
clock hiccupping
the sound different
every time
head slips to her
zipper
sleep wants to claim her
in the warmth
of her sheets
hair veiling her eyes
invisible wedding
she is happy here
hands
      slipping
            off the
                 letters
in the embrace
of her breath
blink 
blink 
stick 
blink
Molasses on her lashes