Saturday 1/13/2007 12:30:00 AM

I was working my way toward Febraury. A lifetime disguised as only a momth. Pitching pennies into sighing bottles. Wondering where the genie hid. Making wishes that had already wished me a long time ago.

She's acoustic. She has strings running from her eyelids to her toes. And every time I try to breathe I'm assaulted by her song. Eager fishermen casting their lures from the edge of her heart. A crippled pantomime failing the stage. Tearing the curtains apart. While the lights snore unimpressed. While the boards creak in a cold prayer that wishes it could ask for what it really wants.

In the fence posts sturdy with cement she listens as it dries. In the ocean she draws with pastel sticks. Coloring in the waves by the number. By the threat.

Of all the lies we'll never share.

Confident she can repay the uptopias lent to her.

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