Thursday, February 17, 2011

Don't Build Your Walls in Flesh and Bones

An entire world

sprawled out on a sheet

Insides exposed,

coerced back and forth

You wanted to know

my fingers and tongue,

and all of the nonsense

they make love to at night

This broken language

has its hold on your eyes,

and you tingle inside

and your throat swallows hard

But I'll close mine tight

and I won't care a bit,

like a fish doesn't care

when it's raining outside.


Becoming your wall,

we breathe in denial;

you think you need me,

I think it's over.

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