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Nervous That I'm Right

by Trisha De Gracia

It wasn't the same as a lash| you left
no marks on the body you used to
go diving for paperback hearts in| you didn't
slip slick blades through
hollows in vertebrae|

But you need to know| that
if I was a long smooth road
of skin and blood
and rhythmic beating| then you
you layed yourself over my ground |
Warm skin on my skin
when you chalked yourself out|

You then chalked yourself out|

And so I live| internally and carefully|
and watching/not-watching for potholes and crags
in the shape of your laugh|
and ditches and stains that reek of your name
and feel when I'm gone
like your arms|

It wasn't the same as a lash |or the
sweat on a brow or the crook
of a neck| so so
delicate|
Wasn't the same as a lover
and wasn't a fight|

It was the unmaking of wrongs| we can't make-believe right
We can't make-believe|

right?

|||

04/11/2010

Posted on 04/11/2010
Copyright © 2020 Trisha De Gracia

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Kristine Briese on 04/19/10 at 03:55 PM

New experiences with rhythm, emotion, thoughts. Lovely piece.

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