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Kelsey Showalter Oct 2010
Look here
I've caught your Roman fingers
Here,  in my stubby shell curves
These crooked hands of ours
Bent and tangled
Oh how you keep me pinned
Under your grazing thumbs

Listen now
To the sharpness of our breathing
Lulling our souls to sleep
My ears remembering all the lines in your smile
And you, all the freckles in my eyes
As the radio babbles on

Feel this
My heart beneath my ribs
Beating clumsily in my ears
Pale hands upon the curve of your neck
Soft lips, so close
Almost 30 degrees in California
There might as well be snow, right?

Taste it all
Soft bile on your tongue
Injured sarcasm from my lips
Heavy handed understandings so hard to grasp

But you needn't worry, my dearling
Though your senses scream again
No you needn't worry, darling
You were only passing through
© Kelsey L. Showalter 2010
Kelsey Showalter Sep 2010
I'll meet you again
Where the shadows grow long
And the sand sings soft whispers
And the amber trees twist
On an eternal Earth

You will find me again
Standing in the river 
My rough bared feet drowning
In the tiny slivers
Of all those little dreams
We were just too poor to nurture
And far too young to waste

I'll meet you again
In the sweetest late afternoon light
With your heart so full of wonder
And your callused hands so beautifully empty
Your body so tired of wandering

And as the red sky says its  last goodbyes, my dear
To all his precious children
So cold and so small
We will hold each other close so close
As the last of ourselves
Withers and bursts into bloom
Into life
Dear Life
So tragically short
© Kelsey L. Showalter
Kelsey Showalter Sep 2010
Dear God,

How I hate

California
all works © to Kelsey L. Showalter 2010
Kelsey Showalter May 2010
And she said to me "I'm taking
That there rusted train
Right on up to Oregon
To see that girl again
The one I love
Shattered and sore
Blue eyes grown wet with pain
The one I left
Clinging and cold
In spitting summer rain."
Copyright 2010 Kelsey L. Showalter
Kelsey Showalter May 2010
She blew smoke out of the corner of her mouth
And I loved her more every time she did it
Feet beat rhythm, rhythm
On the pavement cracked and stained

Lines never looked so smooth
As they did to either side of her
In dead spaces, all, lit bleak

"It gets the taste out better, water
Better than gin, I don't know why."

My heart screams curses
Running on ***** Camels, running
Shaking pulsing, kicking, dry

"Takes two Spirits to get like this
Two ******* Spirits, waste," I spit

Spit hits the ground in fat rain drops,
"Why smoke if you can't stand the taste?" she breathes, so slow

Why smoke at all? For the health of it?
I smoke for you, my love
All jacked up on cigarettes for you
Don't question it, don't inquire.

She blew smoke out of the corner of her mouth
Cancerous, our hearts beat low.
copyright 2010 Kelsey L. Showalter

— The End —