silk blouses and cotton underwear
the nights merge into a sticky soup that falls into the pocket of a sweater i was wearing when they said that death is permanent
the voice echoing into the receiver of my first cell phone
the wavering tremble of someone in the middle of realms
sleep and consciousness turning the other side of the pillow
wondering if the smoke in my lungs felt comfortable
wonder if the moon sinks lower into your backyard
i was never good at distinguishing shadows and when i found myself on the dark side of the mattress;
my feet cold and feeble i wondered if you could hear my heart a thousand miles away
the fluttering of a drowsy bird, lethargically dragging it's clumsy wings into the plummeting stifle of open air
you said my lips were like the halves of a plum
i bit them until they bled but it was never as sweet
it was never as sweet