Alien heads,
oh alien heads
laid in bed
looking at a planet
they’ve
come from
so very far away
I laid with
a woman with
an alien head,
the shape of a
suburban housewife’s bob,
the genetic memories
where she came from,
across our
luscious cells.
We stare at the window
blinds
where there is some form
of day
and leftover red
radiated Martian air
that’s out there.
– Poetry by W.T. tuqMairtin
novamartinpoetry.com 