the sunlight makes you want to die / we had sex and I cried
Spoiler! :
I collect the snot pooling at my feet, wondering if mallard ducks mate for life or if they're just swimming in pairs for a season, vitamin D makes eye contact with strangers feel romantic (or electric).
my snot inside a blue canteen, I lead you outside, stepping barefoot over broken lightbulb shards, I say this is how we water our flowers here, with nose-gunk clear as gravy.
Last edited by spectator on Wed Apr 05, 2017 11:46 pm, edited 2 times in total.
whether you live or die has no bearing on my universe
Spoiler! :
a man, white beard intact, head hair thinning to a peach-skin scalp, dies alone in a barn.
does anyone hear him thinking (daring to think) about dipping toast in tea and eating peaches.
when he thought - of toast/tea/peaches, her pimpled skin, stretched across her back like craters on the moon - he turned his head, turned away from the open barn doors, stopped waiting for the bar to cross the doormat/threshold/him at the speed of light, dreamed he could kiss the moon.
in the death act, park swings are rocket ships, stairs are portals to a (parallel) floor; that never spit us out the same place twice, your hands are water slides, your face- is full of anger.
if I was a chameleon, I'd smile, a teeth-y smile & be happy.
for now, I am on my knees rummaging under cardboard takeout containers, dirty clothes & coins for the wires popped loose from my braces & the world is still vibrating
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