Tuesday, September 7, 2010


Our pinkies linked like promises
made in sandboxes, castles crushed
beneath our bottoms, when we
failed to look before we fell.

If I had a nickle for everytime
I fell off sidewalk curbs and
rocking chairs and wooden
docks then I would start a menagerie-

a home for all the exotics that walked
with three eyes and two hearts,
beneath skies painted dark chocolate-
we would open our mouths when it rained.

I wish I could bleed into your mouth
like vampires and restore your buck
teeth and crooked smile, but instead I'm
left hands empty, knuckles white

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