Sunday 10/30/2011 12:30:00 AM

where the eyes are. watching pebbles shout at the ocean. when the chance is. listening to songs stab the wind. smaller and smaller. until even the rage is only a whisper.

casual encounters. intimate exchanges. ripe fruit. bruised skin.

life is a long conversation with a series of strangers. living is learning to listen to them.

all of her crutches are tender. willing to bend. each of her monsters have names. that she's given them. friends she knows must betray her.

the broken squares. as the stone falls. fits of distance beguile proportion. depth makes us small. measure proves us large. stubborn ghosts. slick with stolen skins. open their zippers. we could go inside. or we could let them come out to us. we could lay as we always have. stiff and rigid and insisting that we are more than these hours that pursue us. but either way we'd be liars.

the sway of trust. a pendulum. keeps counting. long after we've given up on. these hollow costumes.

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