by Lauren Payne
the hot and sticky slow has rolled around again
and there she is
restless under the little dipper
she smokes and paces and wishes
for the milky way to pour itself down on her
to drown her in the stars
all those tiny embers glittering like diamonds on her sun baked skin
catching in her black hair
forming new universes in her tresses.
the warm air stirs against her shoulder blade
her flesh mistakes it for breath
and she’s on her back
beneath the endless sky
thirsting for thick hands and the sea.
Lauren Payne is a Bay Area misfit transplant, originally from Los Angeles, CA. Her work has been published in various online literary journals as well as in print in The Best of Vine Leaves Anthology 2012. When not frightening strangers with her writing, she is likely hunting through record stores, traveling through the southern US, and reading books it will take years to finish. She lives & works in Oakland, CA.