Tuesday 2/13/2007 12:05:00 AM

I wasn't high enough to look down on him, but he was still far away. To tickle the shutter into moving slow. Spitting out his world in an opiate drool. It's not like I ever opened my eyes. Bothered to look. What came after.

The delirium of widows never to love that much. The caution of funerals not to trust the tiemline we can life.

She was chewing on the cloud over her head. A flavorless bubble gum she'd stolen from the mouth of a former lover. Still as pink as the very first touch. In color and nothing more. She was trying to explain the the formula that proved it was time to let them go. Warped by equations of flesh we faltered and failed to carry the remainder.

She put the eraser to her tongue and knew the taste. A forgiveness so familiar.

A perfect collapse of the senses. And in it, all the gods I'll ever need.

| Alcoholic Poet Home |
Copyright 2005-2021. All Rights Reserved.