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 Jan 2011 Rachel Sterling
Perig3e
You are a stolen moment,
a lost afternoon;
a well spent decade?
Perhaps a last memory,
inhaled into one's last breath.
All rights reserved by the author
Still night;
eyes keen,
sheets unfurled—
sails.

The night, sometimes,
swims with sad fish.

The night, sometimes,
is a ritual drowning.

Lonely, I consider waking you
to say

*Look—
the stars are bioluminescent, baby.
My subconscious owns me;
I have no control.

I am --
An explicit enigma.
A steadfast storm.
A controlled catastrophe.
A delicate disaster.
An awesome accident.
An intrepid injury.

I am --
Carefully.constructed.chaos.

And sometimes,
Even I don't know me.
© Janruary 1st, 2011 Moriah Jean

Dedicated to sleepless nights and the introspection they cause.
But most importantly, to new beginnings.
For Joshua.
You used to live in the lush 
shallow dip 
of my lips 
and set sail
nightly
down the moon bright bayous
of my body,
determined explorer
slipping through
latitudes of
longing.

Celestial navigation—
no North Star
but constellations

of temptations.

You wanted to know the shape of my world.
From one hundred and fifty miles away
You drilled a ***** into my head
These simple encounters collaborated together
And they built an emotion
It was sculpted from past events:
Driving around in your car listening to angsty teenage punk rock music
Everyone looked at us with a face that stated, “They don’t belong here”.
Showing me around your town. Knowing that where I was standing on Main Street,
You stood in that same exact spot ten years ago.
Sitting on your couch watching funny videos on youtube. And for the first time in my life, I felt like I wasn’t wasting my time.
With you watching lighting bugs illuminate their ***** over the corn. Made me realize that you live in Nebraska. And I am happy I live here too.
Midnight. At the golf course. We got lost in stars and found a perfect spot on a bench donated by the “Rodriguez Family”.  If that bench wasn’t there, we wouldn’t had a perfect view, which is why I’m so ******* thankful for the Rodriguez Family.
I should’ve been paying more attention to the road because it was so dark but, looking at the stars and creating constellations from the words that you said to me sounded like a greater idea.
I could just hear this voice, screaming within my rib-cage.
It didn’t know what to scream because it’s never felt this till…

NOW….you don’t even hear it…

No, it’s still there…she just chose to forget
In this stage of solitude, I did some research…

[luhv] noun, verb,
a profoundly tender, passionate affection for another person
To have love or affection; be in love
_
When I laugh like a 65-year-old smoker,
when I fill in the lines of her face with my fingertips,
when my thoughts crash,
when I don't return my mother's calls,
when I apologize for stepping on your new shoes,
when I read Wolfe instead of socialize with the priests,
when I stare into open caskets,
when I microwave popcorn for all my friends,
when I throw nickels at Vietnam veterans' feet,
when I drink almond milk,
when I swear celibacy,
when I break oaths,
when I decide to write an epic poem that rips off "Howl",
when I browbeat idiot roommates,
when I buy books I never read,
when I hit on summer girls through text messaging,
when I wake up beside myself,
when I sleep on the tile by the toilet,
when I ******* the neighbors
when I hear someone say New Journalism died,
when I say they lied,
when I break my fourth finger against a wall,
when I listen to The Silver Jews during a heinous fog,
when I get to the table on time,
when I talk to Shorty about Waits,
                        to Zach about Springsteen and Ryan Adams,
when I'm surprised my friends actually listen to me,
when I straddle roadkill,
when I rock the proverbial boat,
when I lie with good intentions,
when I hook,
when I line,
when I sinker,
when I shift,
when I falter,
when I fix,
when I fake,
when I take the bait---
                                it's involuntary.
Copyright 2010 by J.J. Hutton
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