Posted on March 20, 2008 by Deena
the pain, that day, was inevitable.
conversely, the smell of
fresh grass on the back pockets of
our jeans brought about
an unmistakable vivid tenacity for life, the kind that leaves your
shaking palms drawing blood for nameless gods.
i would then press my damp fingers over your eyelids, and tentatively
bite at each and every indicia of vertigo-
hungrily, not
even as [...]
Filed under: it's like love but not | Tagged: sexy days | 2 Comments »
Posted on March 19, 2008 by Deena
You— set a virus in my skin. I am sienna and gold, and lavender and brass. I am the fragrance on the back of your neck, etched into a synthetic tattoo sighing our mathematical equation. You and I are not ellipsoidal. Erase the surface area. Shade over my scent with the syrup of her cordovan [...]
Filed under: cowardice, lies! what a spice! | Tagged: ragdoll | Leave a Comment »
Posted on March 8, 2008 by Deena
Dear Virtue,
I was wondering if perhaps
you could lend me a compass
so I could document each and every sigh and tremor and beat
(you make)
I’d like to check if you are suffering from apnea,
or if you are at all, living. (What’s that? You are.)
(Just not au courant of-)
I was wondering if perhaps
you could
entrust me
with a
map of your [...]
Filed under: just prose | Tagged: friendship | Leave a Comment »
Posted on March 5, 2008 by Deena
Ebullient neophyte: let be your laughter,
for one straight moment.
Abjure that vim, if only to rid yourself of that puerile scent. [...]
Filed under: lies! what a spice! | Tagged: lies i'll tell my children | Leave a Comment »
Posted on March 4, 2008 by Deena
Somber soldier, encompass the nefarious with your sword
Have shame, sitting fainéant in such is the way of the sloth
Soldier dearest, I see magnitude in your eyes
You fancy to be an astronaut, with an (afterglow) minus the (day)
(oh lets let it be a glow, it will glow, it glows, that heart)
dream of that, like a toy, [...]
Filed under: denial, just prose | Tagged: astronauts | Leave a Comment »