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Literature Text
i am waiting
for someone to flip me inside out.
trace the betraying veins
from seashell-pink country roads
somewhere dodging
my thigh, up close
to the red highways
and a clotted intersection
with a pulsing red glow.
i am mapped perfectly.
even the flaws are pretty much accounted for,
scribbled in hazy lines
somewhere on stained sheets.
can you see me? i imagine you
lying naked,
body spilled on the bed like cold milk,
hips brushing mine
with twin-bone love-languages.
grey waterstain mouth, no lipstick, moving
too slow
to find the words
you have been searching
so desperately for.
just let me help you,
i'm good with words. i'm good
at making out with them
in the dark.
but when it gets light, i have to squint.
talking becomes strange,
words are blisters. so many shades of candy reds and valentine pink
open sores on my tongue.
lay down with me,
if you can't trust me to say the right things.
my head falls to rest
on your chest and
sleep crowds my speckled eyes,
swimming through the snarls in my hair.
light is blue, aqua kiss, pale
bone-tinted periwinkle
shines at me from under your skin.
i am a cold bouquet
who reaches hesitant stems into many pools of water.
maybe i shouldn't cry
for stems snipped,
for thorns pruned,
petals shaken free.
you might tell me that i can only mourn that i am not silk.
for someone to flip me inside out.
trace the betraying veins
from seashell-pink country roads
somewhere dodging
my thigh, up close
to the red highways
and a clotted intersection
with a pulsing red glow.
i am mapped perfectly.
even the flaws are pretty much accounted for,
scribbled in hazy lines
somewhere on stained sheets.
can you see me? i imagine you
lying naked,
body spilled on the bed like cold milk,
hips brushing mine
with twin-bone love-languages.
grey waterstain mouth, no lipstick, moving
too slow
to find the words
you have been searching
so desperately for.
just let me help you,
i'm good with words. i'm good
at making out with them
in the dark.
but when it gets light, i have to squint.
talking becomes strange,
words are blisters. so many shades of candy reds and valentine pink
open sores on my tongue.
lay down with me,
if you can't trust me to say the right things.
my head falls to rest
on your chest and
sleep crowds my speckled eyes,
swimming through the snarls in my hair.
light is blue, aqua kiss, pale
bone-tinted periwinkle
shines at me from under your skin.
i am a cold bouquet
who reaches hesitant stems into many pools of water.
maybe i shouldn't cry
for stems snipped,
for thorns pruned,
petals shaken free.
you might tell me that i can only mourn that i am not silk.
Literature
gardenia
the five-a.m. floor protested
my sleepless dreaming.
i got up to make you coffee,
no sugar: you were never fond
of sweetening things that needed it.
i drank it on the autumned porch
in the stupor of dawn
and watched my breath unfurl,
like the smoke you spew sometimes
when you're stressed or have something to hide.
i'm sorry i took
your favorite sweater with me
but i knew it would be cold
in the soil with your secrets
and the brooch she left behind.
Literature
Saving You
Dear Jessie,
If I could save you, I would.
If hands could mend failing lungs and piece together the shattered fragments of bones;
if fingers could sift through DNA and marrow, pull out the poison clogging up arteries,
siphon fluid bursting from synovial sacs and corroding joints;
if words could build you a bed in the nighttime sky,
string together stars and create a cavern in the crescent moon;
I would.
I would blindfold eyes and stitch shut mouths,
covers ears and tie tight hands.
If only I could.
But, wait.
Wait until your tongue is staining the inside of your mouth with lies;
wait until your bones have composed themselves
Literature
The Little Things She Noticed At The Altar
His tuxedo's cuffs were frayed; worn.
Suggested Collections
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"You want it all but don’t care what you want
Feel complete, uh it’s good
You sleep by my side, it’s understood
It’s not too late you wanted it good
Through the hosiery
To the armory
To the nothing
How do you feel when you can’t feel nothing?"
"You want it all but don’t care what you want
Feel complete, uh it’s good
You sleep by my side, it’s understood
It’s not too late you wanted it good
Through the hosiery
To the armory
To the nothing
How do you feel when you can’t feel nothing?"
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Comments9
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Gosh, I'm envious of how you put words together.