September 23, 2011

I reach around you and say yes, baby we can do anything. Then we embrace. Cracked loafers, coffee aroma, banana cream pie, vinyl aprons, city blocks, hint of subway station. When the train shakes the walls on it’s return route, we watch the flower vase.

The office is running an exposé on every pore, scar, and sleep deprived crease on my face. I push a cart filled with letters and files. Some to you, so to them. All not for me. My occupation. I reach around you and say yes, baby we can do anything. Then we embrace.

I watch you watch PBS on the sofa . How much do you love me? As strong as black-holes in space. On the window sill: phone bills. On your left calf, facing me, lucid spider vein, glacial striation. When the train shakes the walls on it’s return route, we watch the flower vase.

Undergraduate morning I roll over and read you Pablo Neruda. You reach for your glasses case. Now, before dawn, I tie a half-Windsor around my collar for benefits, but only after probation, I reach around you and say yes, baby we can do anything. Then we embrace.

I’m hungry. Last night I dreamed of us. You were you, but not you, different time and place. A white beach, like in Corona commercials. Clear water, coral reefs, the bartender spoke Hatian. When the train shakes the walls on it’s return route, we watch the flower vase.

I watch you watch wash dishes in front the sink. Clear water, coral reefs. Who bleeds? I reach around you, toss the cut of porcelain across the linoleum. Stop it baby please. I reach around you and say yes, we can do anything. Then we embrace. When the train shakes the walls on it’s return route, we watch the flower vase.

3:01am  |   URL: http://tmblr.co/ZUQVKx9q_ea3
  
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