Wednesday 11/11/2009 12:58:00 AM

Never mind. The obvious conundrum. Broken spades. Choke the soil. Smother the seeds in rotting earth. The hours culminate in postures my skeleton has trouble forgetting and my skin cannot keep straight. The dead bugs in the lamp look too much like us. The rattle of the filament reminds me of witches. Their candy houses souring in our bellies. As we attempt to digest.

All the worlds on our doorstep. All the super heroes we don't know. That smudge of lipstick plaguing her. As she tries to decipher her face. The roof is for the villains. The scale is for the rest. And what can't be measured is solution enough. To this enigma.

Her nightgown so infectious. As she seduces the bed. The equation of her touch not one that I can solve.

Nor would I want to know. The origins of such a stubborn utopia. The lies that make it almost real.

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