October 28, 2008 at 5:13 pm (Uncategorized) (, , )

i had a million different organs

and broke every single one

with that last sip, seawater

on my tongue; i would have

painted the moon turquoise,

i would have blotted out the sun

and kept our paper-thin night lasting

for days

and then months

and then years.

(when that silver arm reached its limit, i

bent it back.  i wanted to hear the screech

of its breaking and laugh at our ending.)

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October 28, 2008 at 5:28 am (Uncategorized) (, , , )


i fall in love in summer

heat; with sweat-slicked skin,

with salty breath.  this is my

downfall, my summer lust,

and by dusty gas pumps

i relish in the worn back

pockets of faded denim, the

sun-silvered jeans of boys

left to laze. i am in my

weakest months.

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October 28, 2008 at 5:17 am (Uncategorized) (, , , )

there is paper twisting in

her fingers, gold in her

hair. modern rapunzel with five

men weaved, collaboration at its finest.

cute button, smile sweet:

give me something tangible.

she felt his leaving wound her

like an echo. suddenly this

urgency, this fear of dying away

from home. hurry! rubber wings

and ringed grip to guide you

back to kitchen comfort wafting.

quick: gather your scattered

princes and pin them down;

tuck them in pockets familiar

to find upon your return.

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