Friday, December 11th, 2009

it’s that candle that he holds; it
melts part of my thumb onto his lips
that sing of soulful things where i
wonder what went wrong when he wanted all–
my eyes, my face, my hair, my smile; so he says
we’re like toes dancing in a stream of
fishes laughing at everything and
his laugh is like shiney sun slipping through and
the words he used; they break me up, they turn me around
inside and upside, my skin, turns blue;
i’m suffocating this imagination and this dream
is blowing out the ring, that he gave me and he said
he wanted so much more and that so much was there,
on a weekend, lazy stare…

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