Tuesday, August 30, 2011

Cigarette

the way you held
that cigarette
(today)

like the rose bud
that is unfurling
petal
by
petal

like the pen
that bleeds
you
(into paper)

like a piece of me
(or how i hope
your lips
would hold
mine)

smoke
growing like vines
from your crooked teeth
and sinking
into my clothes

i want to bury myself in the sand of you

i want to grow my hair long
and braid it into yours

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