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PK Wakefield Nov 2015
these things are my house, the
house of my body and my flesh
swing singing
singed and swaying
over grass cut freshly short

the knots and roots
of who trees blister
through the soil and meet
with feet
their rough and earthen body.

there is a light piercing the dull
night crisply hurt with twinging
of star song shaking and excellent
inside the smooth nearness
of its dark skin;

my hands make quick fingers
into nice fists of daylight
catching the strummed humming
of its string sound–borne over
the mouth of a mountain–
vibrates and intense.

i walk and the chilled asphalt
is the tiny sound of my feet,,
these halls of night
a rembrancer
and so newly full of nothing
stink with rose and thyme.

i am alive–
i hurt to love and to love
is hurting; my dear i love you
i told you a thousand times
(and a ****)

i'm sorry because both.

i will live
–i guess maybe–
or i will die becoming
worm pursued eating
the earth as eating becomes
me

the            new          grass

which
(freshly cut)
grows under
the house

of your body.
PK Wakefield Nov 2015
I will not die.

My hands will go out from me
into dark waters becoming
two rays of piercing light;

They will dance electrically as
unbreakable columns of smoothness
sing saying,
“though love be a day, do not fear,
we will go amaying.”
PK Wakefield Nov 2015
"The only reason I haven't committed suicide is because I'm terrified of death."
PK Wakefield Nov 2015
"There's nothing wrong with a ****–
just don't fall in love with one."
PK Wakefield Nov 2015
pallid makes her love fist open
steaming up from the hips
with milk and a little red hair;

jaw distending on rapid
convulsions of white chest

turning to suddenly drink
her own blood from
your

h i p s.
PK Wakefield Nov 2015
each new kissing makes two new fists of brutal night alive and hurrying
with the hustle bustle of dying brains wistfully drunk and full of nothing
but how many lurid drips of some dumb ******* **** or if she'll swallow
later tonight when you're alone and her hair makes a mess of the starlight
quickly between the **** ******* of night and you're trying to sleep
but outside it's a city
and the sun is almost.
PK Wakefield Nov 2015
"I feel like I've been waiting my whole life just to hear somebody say, 'I can't wait to see you tonight.'"
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