the suspense is worth
hot tea, a white tee
suspenders
and dreamy we stand
till we sit
laugh at the fan
and i can't feel my hands
or my veins or the shit
will kill me someday
but i hope its tonight
where broken tongues
are twisted and dumb
relaxed-- relatively speaking,
wonder from the wisher,
well from the spells
and my soul in the picture
lashes in the flicker,
doubtful, black cap
black cats
relaxed so
tell me secrets
or keep them
with pictures of me
pale skin to green
contrasting "he"
doesn't get wiser
he only gets older
a kiss on the hips
bliss lips
on her shoulders
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
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