Passage was close to time travel. The green dress on her young bones made that quite apparent. The world was closer than it had ever been. Little ants building castles in her panties. Passage had so many meanings. She couldn't decide which one fit.
Maybe then. Pale thighs in short skirts made of fists. Scabs explaining themselves to the infection.
Maybe now. The pus like a river. Limbs working. Time the one enemy we've always had in common. Even before it mattered.
The poison was always there. Only now we've found it. She remembers herself at last. Knowing it's too late.
Not to forget again.
Maybe then. When her pussy was still thorny with the poke of strangers. And now was only one of many candles not blown out on a very stale birthday cake.
She finds herself, but doesn't know if the search is over.
Friday
5/30/2008 12:45:00 AM
Sad Labels:
alternate universes
,
endings
| Life Poems |