An hour after you left I
blew out smoke--
split apart my lungs in a
desperate attempt for
breath.
There they go--
and I am a wreck
figure
How to ease forward when I've been
taught to attack.
Where your fingers trace my hairline
is wet with the only anti I respect:
anticipation.
so hold me here and
hold me square--
feel my corners;
call them curves
I'll concede to your
cunning coalescence
if our elements combine
I'll be far out of line
to employ my kisses
as catalysts:
if reflection is fifty percent light
do the math and refract me tonight.
2:39 am - Thursday, Jun. 18, 2009
Recent entries:
Babs! - Thursday, May. 06, 2010
Golden Heads - Wednesday, Dec. 23, 2009
doublee - Saturday, Dec. 12, 2009
alone, I shine. - Thursday, Aug. 27, 2009
save me. - Sunday, Aug. 16, 2009
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