Wednesday, January 24, 2007

just a hello...

The cool oak
her thighs

Slow motion pushes her head down
for the first time. I want to live
according to the swell of my lower
body. I cannot sleep in the
photocopied pages of my notebook.
She introduced him to the rate of
forgetting. Gray World War II planes
remote controlled by wire. The air we
breathe is capable of engendering
involuntary imagination. Partly color
blind. I play a sentimental role with
wet naps. We had captured dozens of
potato bugs prodding them to open.
You have to take on the role of the
aggressor, she said, showing her left
profile. Dry humping is a sort of
ceremony, much like shoe polishing.

A statue of Juliet in Verona grows
tarnished around a perfect pair of
polished apple breasts.

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