Sunday, February 17, 2008

giraffe tongues leave a lot a room for being speechless

when they wallpaper your dreams with deranged deer and trap you unmoving inside your own body, blinking is like lifting a skyscraper.  let the candle light come up slow.  the words moved without our having to push them, or breathe life into them.  they had a color, a shape.  we grew libraries.  we led a blind prophet to the liquor store.  we walked inside saturday night like a hallway.  there were horses nibbling your fingers.  the city was made of watercolors.  our footsteps held hands.  the tea tasted like mint.  i told you my name.  we ate until the chairs turned upside down.  there were so many questions.  there are still more.  and now that i know your lips taste like soft, i want to kiss them again.

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