purple rosebud octopus

purple rosebud octopus
i thought you were ready to pounce
with a curve of your back
and shadow whiplash
but you came softly through,
slid your watery cups across
my bruising skin
and there infused
your gentle toxin that
turns sand into ice.

purple rosebud octopus
i wish i could cry
so i could weep away the slow sting
of your phantom limbs
and turn your dull cutlass
into the spear in my side
and then feel your limp
tendrils entangle my spine,
and to deceive myself
of all feeling.

purple rosebud octopus
where do your tentacles reach
when they wade into my mind?
do they reach around
until they find
that closet door
those years ago
where i hid away my sadness
and emerged
but only a feasting ground for octopi?


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