daily minutia
Friday, January 23, 2015
friday
in the bright eaves
or her mind midway
on a journey to
herself
she confesses
to stingy silence
and breaking hearts
of lonely poets
fleeing their tiny
verses
veins embossed
on crumbling
papery skin
kiss
me
Thursday, January 22, 2015
thursday
Found my glasses inside his coat pocket
he's so golden and so mean
complains the music in my head
is not chopin
only broken mirrors weeping
lover makes breakfast
then climbs on top
and holds my wrists
so i only get the scent of food
he enjoys flower stem women
with moist submissive petals
his two finger always to my lips
he thinks i can't read
without my glasses
thinks i can't love without pain
lover likes us to dance in front of the mirrors
when my legs are in the air
he whispers false notes
takes apart my heart
bleeding her
into his own
terror.
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