i push myself
and the dandelion across my back falls
we think it must be delicate,
the way the wind can pummel our bones
and catch our breath with the coldness of her wet tongue
we are being trapped by a butterfly net
and my hands have frozen

i carry myself through the winter
with extra weight and not enough soup
we feel destroyed when the snow leaves the ground
and the grass has yet to turn brown
we become fires taking out suburbs
because we can

my leg has broken today
the road beneath biting at my heels
i am propped between the cushions of your over-sized loveseat
the pun is not lost on me

i wear my hair as high as it will go
my shoulders are less weak now
and my ears hear you gasp for air
before you even pick up the phone

i have pushed myself into the stream
i have danced it a thousand times
my clothes become drenched,
fish cling to my ankles
and i am watching the sun rise one last time.

09/23/2010

Posted on 09/23/2010
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