a new sun has risen
soothing myself with smoke as i tap the tip
of my cigarette against the ash tray
filling in the gaps of passersby conversation
the autumn cold is crisp like a sultry goodbye,
a kiss that is too lucid for feeling.
donning black like a brand new widow i keep
the bold taste of liquor on my tongue
sitting alone to surpass the gray loneliness, lest i feel anything.
stretching my arms to reach for something,
watching a husband-and-wife walk by,
the only thing i'm clutching close is the hunger.
cigarette smoke circles around my eyes, blurring now
until the husband-and-wife is just
a thin black line, a smudge of eye make-up,
the leftover grease at the bottom of the pan.
looking over my shoulder i wonder how many times
and if he ever..
i am just that brown-haired, skinny plastic bag of a little girl,
enamored by the unwavering attention of
a tall dark and handsome little boy.
it blossomed and bloomed, seeped like ink onto rice paper,
etching slowly and meaningful. time went by and the pieces
came together like their hands, like their fingers
intertwining, like their lips meeting, bodies soon
gasping for air.
the sunlight would catch just right
as i saw your face, everything smooth
and perfect, and i thought that maybe this was what everyone was talking about.
you showed me the steps, carried me when i was
weak
with inexperience. we splashed water on the others' face,
opened up the black door to let the light spill in,
touching us, soaking us all over. it was cool and smooth like cream.
i never wanted to grow away from you,
thickly settled area signs everywhere. we were growing further apart,
the vines pulling us in opposite directions.
i want to still have your touch in the grooves of my skin.
sometimes i long for you so
i wake in the night crying
and reaching
of my cigarette against the ash tray
filling in the gaps of passersby conversation
the autumn cold is crisp like a sultry goodbye,
a kiss that is too lucid for feeling.
donning black like a brand new widow i keep
the bold taste of liquor on my tongue
sitting alone to surpass the gray loneliness, lest i feel anything.
stretching my arms to reach for something,
watching a husband-and-wife walk by,
the only thing i'm clutching close is the hunger.
cigarette smoke circles around my eyes, blurring now
until the husband-and-wife is just
a thin black line, a smudge of eye make-up,
the leftover grease at the bottom of the pan.
looking over my shoulder i wonder how many times
and if he ever..
i am just that brown-haired, skinny plastic bag of a little girl,
enamored by the unwavering attention of
a tall dark and handsome little boy.
it blossomed and bloomed, seeped like ink onto rice paper,
etching slowly and meaningful. time went by and the pieces
came together like their hands, like their fingers
intertwining, like their lips meeting, bodies soon
gasping for air.
the sunlight would catch just right
as i saw your face, everything smooth
and perfect, and i thought that maybe this was what everyone was talking about.
you showed me the steps, carried me when i was
weak
with inexperience. we splashed water on the others' face,
opened up the black door to let the light spill in,
touching us, soaking us all over. it was cool and smooth like cream.
i never wanted to grow away from you,
thickly settled area signs everywhere. we were growing further apart,
the vines pulling us in opposite directions.
i want to still have your touch in the grooves of my skin.
sometimes i long for you so
i wake in the night crying
and reaching