Tuesday, June 08, 2010

A light out like a life out, lit

When you come home to bed.
What goes on.
You are a person
coming home into a room.
A bed in the room. Washing
your face or cleaning your teeth, my ears.
A brush of felt. Calming myself down
a bit. Panting a bit as long as there's a hidden delicate beam.
Guilt trapped in ecstasy.

She'll forget me when her brain goes.
She'll forget me when her brain goes.

1 Comments:

Blogger joanna said...

This is good.

11:34 AM  

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