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No, she did not stutter
when she felt the damp earth;
So rotted from her preceding bodies.
And they shrieked--those impetuous
tongues whose eyes lingered
from their ***** havens as they
knew the flavor of their smoke-
choked skies.

She did not stutter
when she felt the damp earth.
I'm still listening
while the district sleeps alone
in the night--Where I am.
And beneath these howling sheets
I couldn't count my crosses
this time.
I remember losing something,
but I don't have a clue anymore and I'm not
afraid anymore
because I've had a little too much to drink
and I'm sleeping in my car

I've got to return all these toys to the kids today,
rid myself of these accumulative ways
that have gotten in the way
of my body that can't escape from the
ties that I've
tethered to my toes

I remember finding a place while
looking for a friend;
the impending sun was looking for us, too
but instead of my friend a stranger emerged
and followed me back to where I came from

back to the bar that we've spent so many nights
of not remembering all the laughs
and the fights; we eat like kings,
and we sing,
and we're not afraid anymore

I wander in this old bar, like I've never
seen it before
and there's a doorway I'm sure
was never there before so I reach for the handle
and open swings the door
and the most beautiful light:
I've never seen a one shine quite as bright.

she's bathing, free as the stars themselves,
so I uncover my self
and I sit in the water with her but we don't talk,
we just smile,
and we don't kiss,
but she touches my arm and we're in love

expecting eyes peer from windows
and a slit in the door
we've decided to leave open
because there's nothing more beautiful
than being here, every laugh line,
every scar exposed

there's nothing more beautiful than
bathing in love
where every laugh line and scar is exposed


I forgot about remembering that
I've lost something,
the delivery man is here to return it
but I can't find him, either
so I dance a little bit, I sit outside
and hope he never finds me.
I've been sifting through
fragmented parts of my
life and this puzzle
doesn't seem to make
sense

But I know time
cut the edges and
scaled them to size,
to fit in such a
way that nothing is
wasted

Thus bend and break
still as I might,
I can change only
the number of shapes
I'll sustain, piece by
piece

all of me has already been made
the whole picture remains unscathed
everything will be put to use here
I've been feeling the need to write.
Walking on egg shells
Quietly falling through
A woman who never tells
Of her melancholy blue
for my mother
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