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I would never leave you to clean the secrets off the walls.
All I ask is that you light my cigarette between moments of intensity,
When I am still.

It’s hard to take so little when you offer so much,
But I am shrinking as I strip layers of buildup from the lens.

You understand, it just happens, and I am just me.
I depart in madness, but arrive in peace.

In November, the leaves become sick and die.
I watch them from my roof and feel them ignite before they fall.



March 14, 2010 at 6:12 pm

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"Starbound" by Jessica Barrett

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photo by E. Ashley Desh Solomon Hawk Wortman

You are the buzzing static of winter,
Storing your white canvas crystallized.
The moment will come back for you,
So you know, to paint the universe.
Enter spring stems re-wiring you in a hurry,
Sprouting summer that adores you most of all,
Swinging you under it branches and
Hoisting you to the stars.
I dreamt you were suspended by every season,
You were scraping the rings off Saturn
With care and a cigarette between your smile
And I didn’t have the heart
To talk you back down.
Happy like Saturday morning;
A little boy in footy pajamas
Watching cartoons over a big bowl
Of sugary cereal and it’s not always
What we imagine, the loose screw;
An old lady playing with her childhood
At times, it’s a young man
On a solo seesaw at midnight,
Skipping, fearless, home at dawn.
The brilliant rewiring of spring
That flipped it over three and one-half times,
Wheels pointed towards the stars.


March 14, 2010 at 5:53 pm

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