I wear minnows on my wrist –
they came from my eyes
but at least they swim
and I am not alone when I cry.
I am guilty of emptying
my loved ones
into picture frames
so they will last forever, and
I have thought about
tattooing makeup to my face.
Everything
I try to hang onto releases me
like rainfall salt from
cypresses, leaving a bad taste
or nothing to trace at all.
I want to leave rose petals
in everyone’s pocket
to attract hungry bumblebees
because I feel
my least lonesome when
something’s being slid
into me, even if it stings a little.
Jul 31, 2013
Jul 31, 2013 at 9:15 PM UTC
I wear minnows on my wrist –
they came from my eyes
but at least they swim
and I am not alone when I cry.
I am guilty of emptying
my loved ones
into picture frames
so they will last forever, and
I have thought about
tattooing makeup to my face.
Everything
I try to hang onto releases me
like rainfall salt from
cypresses, leaving a bad taste
or nothing to trace at all.
I want to leave rose petals
in everyone’s pocket
to attract hungry bumblebees
because I feel
my least lonesome when
something’s being slid
into me, even if it stings a little.
