Thursday 3/15/2007 12:13:00 AM

All alone with people I don't know yet. Tassels of light sewn to darkness. In the shape of smell. three-dimensional memories. In the shadow of touch. Billowing nightgowns of skin dancing on the exhale of every wish.

Quiet pillows. Snoring softly against our breath. The chalk outlines of lives we don't remember. Or never knew. In the fariy tales we wrtoe to ourselves when no one was listening. In the methods I chose. The key to heaven stuck in the lock to hell. The hush of strangers in our beds. The meriful opiates with which time stabs at us. As we wake up. Drowning in the smell of stranger. Already forgetting how it felt.

To be that close.

0 comments:


| Alcoholic Poet Home |
Copyright 2005-2016. All Rights Reserved.