Wednesday, April 3, 2013

David


I was 20 plus
spilling through windows
tipping tipsy from fireless escapes
tearing through a corset in motion

Making such a fuss
to curve between shadows
then pissed I couldn't be traced
despite blood coursing with poison

Dropping whispers for David
clanking down 16 darkened flights
to black streets and tail lights
all yearning and pointing to the ocean

Leg skin pulled on brick unshaved
sandal fall to sleep-sick pavement
stranger's cat over skirt then sill
trading spots with haunting jazz trill





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