conversational tones too often
tumble into sloppiness, leaving
my words marked with fumble
-d caresses and stuttering half-t
-houghts. i don't leave you with
my leftovers on purpose, they d
-ropped into my purse when i c
-ame to see you today. a lot of th
-ings drop into my mind when i
see you. but it's mostly your wo
-rds. perhaps my only love affair
was with the letters you placed
under my name. i never wanted
to be beautiful until you wrote o
-f it with a ball point pen; never
dreamt of living extravagantly u
-ntil you dusted me in spices and
sparks with flecks of ink and the
marks of your fingers. you crafte
-d everything you loved about m
-e. you are the only reason i am e
-xtravagantly in love with the fle
-cks and sparks under my skin. y
-ou planted whispers beneath my
eyes and called them dangerous.
but only you were dangerous
to me
this is new. this is the breath of winter as it fogs before your eyes, this is disguise, this is the hundred times you laugh before you start to cry.
