I have watched the stars align
one by one in
delicate apricot rows spread out across your skin
you and I are intertwined
And I hear your throat spitting out words like
a choking man; a paradox
when you called me pretty though I deliquesced
at your awful discourse, your touch
makes me want to cross out my eyes
And mark myself as dead because it feels like heaven
Running through your fingers

02/09/2006

Posted on 02/09/2006
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