Tuesday, November 2, 2010


i already knew
that there were senses
     farther from our conversations
     than charades or roses
     could neither betray
                      nor help

but i covered myself in dust
just trying to (remember?)
                    fill in the holes.

     and incidentally,
     time, became a gathering of arms.
     and it was selfish
     to have held it
     like a womb-

              casual hair-triggers
              next to calm, spent shells.

    it had become itinerary,
    to wear my flesh to the bone-
    crawling on my belly,
    brushing bloody kisses off the walls,
       and peeling bait off the fishhooks.

but i'm cagey.

i pretend i don't know.

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