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 Mar 2014 Julian Alexander
Dear
she asked
"what do you even write?"  
We write
testimonies
pleas
and defenses
our pen, the judge and the jury
we write of the rythymn and the dead space between beats.
our message is the vibrations that barrel out of the belly of the drum
our words encompass the spectrum of light
we write the fuse
we are the piston
we are the face and hands of the clock, the numbers, and the tic tock
we write you.
we write ourselves.
we write strangers and phantoms and projections.
we write wrongs
we write mysteries our reader resolves.
we write eyes, hearts, and minds
tangible soul tales for the deaf and blind.
On a warm afternoon
the gulls are squeaking
life is calm
children are speaking
life is calm
A bus screeches to a halt
All remains calm
A dog draws his last breath
He met his fate two seconds back
Then all is calm.
Children are silent
Tears well in eyes
The big red bus in shock
hearing cries
from the office block
And all is silent and calm.
a cute smile, a perfect smile
that hides your pain
and deception possibly
time to analyze you

to find out if you are
pained or a pain
all of this hidden behind
that cute, perfect smile
I want to be
your 1 a.m. thoughts,
2 a.m. heartache,
3 a.m. regret,
& your 4 a.m.
'I miss you'
Choices
are the double-edged sword
with which
I will end it all.
Two devils sit
on each shoulder
seducing me
with sweet nothings.
You with your
sweet summers
and two crystal pools
of eyes
where I'd wade in the waters
of promise and tomorrow.
He with his
true love
constant as the new day,
crooked smile
and that twinkle.
He's luring me in
with his gravity.
There is never
a right answer
when you're juggling hearts.
I wish I could dance
for you
so I could make you happy again.
Like I used to.
Like he makes me.
I can't.
Choices will **** me.
© MAB February, 2014

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