by Olivia Weinkein
she flies at times but it is
impossible for the air to hold
all things so she breaks over
rocks and secret anguish and
forever the need to have something
complete, completed, firmly put
in its place. her hands, the lies, the
love she will never speak again.
every soulful dream that just could
not be her friend and she thinks,
amen to all that anyway who needs
that stuff to live but she does she
does she does and she always did.
Author's Note: whatever.
Posted on 05/05/2003
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