Untitled, as it Stands.

July 7, 2009
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you cannot unthink
a memory knit by agile hands
tracing your lips
with a single outstretched, naked finger

flashing past a world unseen,
a quilt of fingerprints
bone-red and scarlet-white;
wholesomely captivating within
the margins – the staggered trim fence—
outlined with a water-based pen.

an unwritten song – or law?—that stands
before the world
stooped over and unfolding.
you taste it in the space
between your lips:
ice cold, sunflower rain, brushes flushed cheeks.

a collection of cherry chapstick,
empty bottles, pencil
scratches cast like shadows
across the floorboards
running, kicking, floating…
the skeletons in your closet
come out to dance,
stalk&hunt to govern your dreams.

the sky curved inward and collapsed,
creating this delightful mess;
a decieving trap.
and i am the one who fell into it.
stumbled into it.
rolled into it.
k into it.

tear open the envelope
reseal the lies
running the tongue along its edge
a trail of callous saliva in its wake
no, no, you cannot unthink
a memory etched in time
by the hand that feeds you
oh –but the words sink in
and the strawberry wine
hits you

and then
the sun
will rise.

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