Monday, October 01, 2007

skin.

please don't tear the skin. there is not much left. and there are tiny time bombs, asking why, and you are scuttling off without reply. resounding answers...that nothing can erase. a place where lust was dry and caused such empty space to come alive. there are retreats, small cavities i can hide inside, where you find me. breathing. barely alive. there are treatises. waving red flags. on approach...heaving. then, just gone. and often, without so much, as a sullen goodbye.

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