Fiona Sinclair- New Poetry
You claim not to dream.
But I know some nights,
during REMs anarchy,
your body jolts as if defibrillated,
your whimpers chill more than screams.
I do not wake you; in case you remember
If I had longer arms, I’d be a stripper.
We share the joke like a joint.
I think there might be a niche market for crip porn -
Always up for converting your handicaps into assets
you have already researched,
but are not sure if you could fake sexy,
still, an option should a br...