Two Months

this is not a face

you've seen

this is not real until

breath has been


this is not me until it's you.

ive been waiting here

in this desert

in this ocean

in this garden

in this field of heather

i've always waited

with purple flowers plenty

dripping at my sides

alone i've waited

and now? the voices come at me

the questions like needles

a tattoo of gossip

a bees' sting of reality

and i've avoided this

i've skirted this line for

(two months)

an eternity



i'd open my skin up and bleed for you

in comparison

this means nothing.

i can't create a Melody

for them

harmonies that proclaim you in delight

but i can do this,


i can do this.
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May 19, 2012