Tuesday, October 11, 2011

Apology Attempt # 7
..
The dawn coughs,
Morning regurgitates Hope.
I taste cavities, must have eaten sawdust again last night.
This isn’t glamorous.
There is popcorn syruped in my hair.

Whenever I exhale,
I listen for your fever.
I have tried calling the shore, to the god between my thumbs.
They say I'm the only one
who can't make you better.

I'm Sorry.

I wonder if you’re standing up straight,
Or who you’re dancing with,
Who you're picturing on the mornings when lacey synapses turn your thoughts to lusty meringue thigh highs
Seriously I want to—
No.
That’s not what this is about, I'm sorry...

I wish I could give you the roof top chapters.
The romance that your red dancer promised.
La luna, piu' tempo.
The pelican's morning dive.
My white keyhole skirt forever
Singing in the black boarded college gymnasium,
At last, my love has come along.
    Only to make me wonder if there are any more maps
    Ready to go anywhere
                                       but now.

I Am So

            Translucent! Like God damn
Bundles of tissue paper,
Fluffed up. Desperate. Pastel.

This clumsy
              bent
         film
is all the delicate I have. Believe me.

I am.

Very.

.

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