I can feel myself sinking deeper 

into your memory-foam breasts,  

swallowed whole

by polyester waves,

ripple by ripple.

You will chew me up 

and spit me out.

But I will come back time and time again

unscathed by your  

cold shoulder.

It’s only temporary,

as these things usually are.

Let me back into your good graces. 

I will prove 

that I am worthy 

of your affection.

Embrace me with your quilted appendages. 

Keep me in your womb.

Give me shelter

Give me security.

Give me love

or something like it.

Smother me. 

Make me crave the outside 

but do not set me free.

I do not belong out there 

with the soiled masses 

desperate 

for an unattainable closeness. 

They want what we have.

Do not shut me out, 

forcing me to inhale 

the pungent stench of sensibility.

It’s all death and taxes.

A wrinkled reality. 

Let me vacate in the void.

Let me stay.

In here where I am protected.

In here where I am wanted. 

In here where I am buried

but still very 

much alive.