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Raquel E Feb 2017
I show you traffic lights
so you know when to follow
but they are all yellow
the waiting period
the electric hair
you can't hide
after the rave
after the wave

I thought it
was time to stop
when. I saw the red
but it was just a stain
              after the bird
        after the car
after the window-bird
crashed the car-head

the before the after the chronicles
the number on a napkin in a trash can
Raquel E Feb 2017
the world holds its breath for us
soggy
   feeble
         drenched from the hours
         waiting out in this mist
         let the world manifest
         nothing but bliss
this liquid love
this bottomless love
I'm made out of water
when you are the sea
Raquel E Feb 2017
to have a talk with you
you measure my distance
three times as patience as fury
moving away from the origin an instant
six minus or equal feelings
Than ¾ a glass of wine
fine related-rate problems

you talk like this:

we need to implement the ability
to insert exact speech,
including additional pauses.
pitch-changes.
speed-changes.
when addressing each other.
fifteen
eighteen
twenty-one
(a+b) – (Me) = like this:
two steps back steps forward three
Raquel E Feb 2017
every alarm goes off when it's too
late
                         my veins         burst
                         my skin           crawls
I follow street lights
       they are all green
            when the lizard's    tail
                          dances
               ­             waiting for a body
Raquel E Feb 2017
life is always different
and we are always the same
               you can boo hoo
               you can ha ha
depending on the game
it's all freaking beautiful
           moon walker
           castle builder
           fire fighter
I woke up this morning
don't remember your name
          check
my shoes are shiny
          check
I'm sober
          check
how is it that you look
better every year?
I drink a lot of wine
I said
Raquel E Feb 2017
when the lights are off
I hear your skin cracking
    through the ceiling

         I wait outside
   you run out of cotton
      the glass chooses
       to be half empty

you are made out of glass
               and your skin cracks

I'm the sink-woman
landing on the floor
                      waiting
Raquel E Feb 2017
I live in the neighborhood
of your parallel universes
the window you didn't open
      the bus you missed
      that name, that tune
    you couldn't remember
                            a helicopter
                               a whistle
                                  a train
                                a trumpet
                               a horn
                             a siren
                          a tuba
I yell my vocal cords explode
           into prophetic songs
                        tomorrow
           our voice will expire
                   our memory
                            weak
                            wil­l
                            fade
                            li­ke

                                             this
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