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poem shaped like a ransom note

by Indigo Tempesta

Whispers are little things
The warm orange glow that hums "dance with me,"
and flickers.
"bye, mean old angel," i snickered, and disappeared
only to find myself floating
smelling rancid in my concrete beer garden
"goodnight," he said(twice), and not apple pies
but me
giving me a chill that's not a chill
i feel it too and this is the most
lucid i've ever been. i'll miss you in the morning
then pick up the reciever and catch the remainder of last night
in my ear
how did i live so long without perfect whatever-you-said
like you said, yes
or did i say it? either way it's the same thing
like the sun blazing in the sky, the sun at its zenith
and you in the shadow it casts, drawing my curtains to protect my view
how deep have the shards gone so far, none, i'd believe it too if i were you, that's how i know, you know. i played with you mid-winter
and we got lost midtown. always illegal, heart-attack, shirtless, still i'm gonna miss you in the meantime
and hope for another question i'd love to answer then for you
"yesterday your rent was due" he said so i flicked him off and ran away

04/03/2002

Posted on 04/03/2002
Copyright © 2025 Indigo Tempesta

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Cole Miller on 10/28/03 at 02:34 AM

"or did i say it, either way its the same thing." that line is what got me to leave a comment. just an amazing piece, the flow, is just, so true feeling.

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