December 2010
6 posts
3 tags
There’s an instinct: when the car stops short, your arm flies out, straps across the passenger, the passenger seat even when it’s empty. The body goes off-book, for just a moment. It stops protecting itself against all odds and becomes selfless, heroic. The body takes the blame, accepts fault, admits some gross mistake in calculating velocity, mass and speed and other physics lessons, it...
4 tags
Whatever you dropped in the dark can be recovered in the morning.
We will find the turquoise ring that clutched the mud and grass as I ripped your costly jeans, down to your soft calves.
The night rain, beading upon your skinny spine. If you were drunk, I didn’t know. You didn’t say anything stupid. Your tongue was blossoming, pronouncing your kiss, cleanly.
I was glad your breath was hot...
6 tags
3 tags
I am in blue shorts and her in orange dress walking down the heat of austin both our eyes closed trying to see how far we can walk with them like that blind except for our hands in each other’s the smell of a magnolia in our memory from the block before with the street ravining next to my left foot speeding with cars and our eyes still clenched closed tight as a seed we make it half way...
3 tags
confetti and graffiti give me the same feeling like something won or someone came home from far far away there are days when I am surprised the streets are not run rampant with both that there is not kissing in the streets that there is not the rock song everlasting of fireworks explosion that the streets are not overflowing with slowdriving convertible parades and beautiful queens waving...