Wednesday 14 February 2018

february 13th


Shaking like the holly in winter,
Spines under snow, red lips
Lingering—there she is
Every morning. Dreaming is
Supposed to be solitary, you say,
Already late to pointless appointments
Where the world has already won.
Show more of yourself. Grit your teeth
While they take the white and dance.
You try to rid
Your body of its power, like the 2am
on your knees shuddering,
But it’s in your blood.
You go out to piss in the backyard
Moon with a shadow over its face
Looking at you peculiar
As if asking
What species of heartbreak is that--
That takes the time away,
That rolls the days down a hill
Into memory without your ever moving?

The city trees bear their bones to the wind
And run out to the violet sky like some
Very slow wild thing skittering through the air.
You wish you believed in the sky,
That last free thing.
Something has drained out;
Now you are like the oak leaf in winter,
All desiccated veins and longing for spring.

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