Tuesday, August 11, 2009


and she said
"but i have weak wrists. i'm not strong enough to pull you"
to which she replied
"sex is nothing more than ample time, a loving thought and music to fall behind"

i said ok.

and she tore her hat off her brown hair and it fell to the floor in her same breath.
she was busy watching the men outside her window
in New York City's atmosphere,
where the dead keep on living
and the living wish they were dead.

do you wish you were dead?
the little boy asked his own mother.

"sometimes. sometimes."
she replied in between breaths

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