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When you wake up in the morning
And there's a note on your mug
"I didn't want to wake you"
"I left your favorite donuts on the table"
"When you sleep you make little sobbing sounds"
(And I think that's cute) is implied
To no longer be your own
To be stealing his deodorant
Because you miss his smell at work
And kitchen smells are not musician smells
And guitar strings are not
Your body
But they might as well be
Because you feel
Every
Tiny
Note
He plays
You would gladly do his laundry
For another song to fall asleep too
Many ways he kisses you
Too many places to count the stars
Too many phantom vibrations
And you think your phone is ringing
Because he just wants to talk about your day
You lose it for a minute
But it's nothing
It's the wind blowing
It's just missing someone
And you're terrified you've forgotten
The shadows his nose casts and
The dilations of his eyes
And the shapes of his words
As they meet your ears
But you look up at the moon
How it waxes
It wanes
Your love goes through phases
That bring in the tides
And wash lost shark's teeth out to sea
Your love changes daily
Loving him is often scary
You are perpetually quaking
Remembering how quickly
Sweet things dissolve in the rain
Sugar wastes enamel
Like time wastes muscle
You could fit a camel through the eye of a needle
Easier than you can handle this
Than you can wrap your head around
Caliente
Having no control
Because you cut the reins
You wanted it that way
And you forgot that fear
Taste like red wine and stale saltines
And being out of ice cream
You wanted it that way
You wanted a love story
You wanted to know that there's no such thing as control anyways
No such thing as
An autonomous heart
And you are ******
Because you could draw the shadows his nose casts
The squeeze of his ***
The way his eyes fluoresce at the sight of you
From memory
You are ****** because he is all you can think about
Past, present, future
I mean, you are seriously ******
I wrote this stream of consciousness mess as a warning to myself. I'm ******.
The sun didn't come up today
We stayed in bed
Waiting
Till 11:30
And said "If this is the end at least I'm spending it
with you."

And we turned on all the lights and got naked
Made the house into a beach
Drank old scotch
With little pink umbrellas
Like it was going out of style

We talked about Unicorns
How they never got the memo about the ark
And shouldn't there be fossils?!
Shouldn't there be something?!

We dressed the dog up
And she ruled over her blanket fort
With an iron paw
She had to be stopped
So like generals with swords
And guns drawn on our arms
We invaded
And the Maharaja's palace
Collapsed on top of us

We were drunk and in love

Love and in drunk
Under a mile of blankets
And sheets
Of paper
Made confetti
Tossed it up around our heads
White and prematurely aging
Paper dolls

We gave each other prison tats
With blue ink pens
And sewing needles
1 plus 1
Is 2 hearts sharing their last cup of tea
Their last bowl of mac and cheese
I eat flesh  
prowl alone, for four legged prey
in the alligator juniper, on the gray peaks,
where I am invisible, if still, or quivering
slightly from the west wind, snow chilled
in the craggy highlands

the beasts of the plain
scavenge…in packs,  
they devour the upright ones who fed them,  
leaving guilty trails of blood in the bleached sand  
I share their genus, their jackal jaws,  
not their betrayal, nor their lust for the ****  

for me, the meal has no taste, only the scent
of silence, the sound of one hand clapping  
sating me for another sunset, another dark night  
where my ears twitch, cautiously
in rabbit chasing sleep
nantan lupan=grey wolf
 Jun 2013 Lilith Meredith
brooke
A room full of names
scratched from the walls
or peeled back in layers
leaving white spots on the
trim, but this vine winds
and never wavers and although
occasionally it is mislead down the
drains it finds its way up the shutters.
(c) Brooke Otto
the dress is red
or black or off
and the eyes are
blue or green or brown

the hair is auburn
or blonde
some mix between
and the face is
tired or bored
or apathetic

the liquor is cheap
and strong and
does the job
and the love is
stale or bitter
or gone

the motel reeks
of something rotten
and her name is Jen
or Ashley or
anything
anything else

the ***
is old or used
or quick
but always
no good
and the bed squeaks
and the walls are thin
so the renter next door
feels every pulse

the goodbye
is laughable or sad
or about time
and the girl is
too old or too young
too beat up
but she always,
always comes
again

new dress new
*** new face
new love
but she always, always
comes again
full moon gazing

moon gawking
shutters snapping  
to freeze round moment
in time    


red man’s liquid revenge

crimson cream
dripping  
from his dull blade
after scalping me    


different views*

on this spinning wheel
the *happy
hamster  
and mad me
 Jun 2013 Lilith Meredith
brooke
This door and this
carpet are worn
because I have
taken this exit
many times
before
(c) Brooke Otto
We come together
Silent
Eyes locked

Holding each other
Alive
Chest pounding

Two pieces became whole
Stillness
Hearts resounding

One after another
Separation
I leave my piece with you
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