Wednesday, April 11, 2012

51.

it was a dream of a wasp
in my hair, like you wear
me around your neck
and take me off in
the evenings

I was pulling you through
a thousand strands, pulling
a dead wasp out
of a hundred braids

and it was a dream of
you and your hands and your
hands, covering
me up

I was saying stop
no, I was saying I can’t
hold a pain like this
in just one body, so
your smile

faded
and I walked out

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