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bipolaroid pictures

photograph One:

i see you, and the first things i see are your dark eyes

you sit beside me with open hands and make me laugh over coffee.

photograph Two:

one night i notice your mouth. you haven't drank but i have.

still all i see are your eyes when you first lean in.

i'm aroused and utterly haunted.

photograph Three:

you're so pale i want to colour you in. i want to make you alive.

you're dancing so frenetically, my marionette man

and i can't tell who tugs the strings.

photograph Four:

It's after midnight and you've stormed from my house snarling

like a wolf waiting to die.

"i'm poison" you spit. "i'll poison you, too".

"you and me." i plead. "i won't run".

photograph Five:

it's a cloudy day. you tell me you love me without looking me in the eye.

photograph Six:

you're standing in the open doorway against winter wind

dragging a half-quit cigarette and i am hugging my knees on your couch

waiting for you to calm

our eyelashes smeared chilly with tears.

photograph Seven:

you are lying on the floor, heaving with sobs.

i am holding you as tight as i can because i don't know what to do

and i'm afraid if i let you go you will cremate in the heat of your darkness

already we are both husks.

photograph Eight:

we lie awake in your cold bed and we are strangers

you will not touch me and i feel naked.

 

photograph Nine:

i awoke at 4am from a dream of you that was a lie

many months after i fled from your ghost

and like an infected wound

it still throbs hotly that i could not save you

and that for so long i could not save myself from you

the dark-eyed boy with the angel tattoo

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Written by
mure
Published
Mar 2, 2012
Lines·Words
38·306
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