August 1, 2010

july 2010

back in the city i didn't look anyone in the eye.
i sat shedding (just in case)
and picked my hands clean (just in case).
from the corner came
"you're so hot"

"excuse me?"

"you're so pretty."
"thank you"
"you must get that a lot. do you get that a lot?"
"usually from strangers."
"only from people you don't know? what a shame."

"have a nice day, beautiful."

but just the other night-
bowlegged we crouched
around the kitchen table
juggling wine bottles and coffee mugs.
something told me i should hold here,
i said out loud
i don't want to sit still.
my ribcage is a dancehall filled with the sloping
slender necks of girls
who let themselves be kissed in the dark.

July 7, 2010


it wasn't a hurricane
just you
on my bed with your shoes on
(like me)
fighting screams i never could have taught you

i didn't want to hold your arms back
so i held mine high and told you
tried to show you the
impossibility of ever knowing
where we
when we
could tell we were enough

i don't want wet noses or sloping
summer teeth but
we are both apple core-
both bottoms up defeat
already expecting the
nausea of staying still