A cigarette sneaks through bullet-hole blasts of sugar pebble sand
inching an ankle onto the fake woven blanket that speaks with my mother's voice
I'll rock you through sunburnt aloe absent late evenings
Calloused feet burning a lucky charm path of footprints through the asphalt
Garbage cans dot the butter dappled beach, freckles of refuse rust-
ruins of liver spotted hands rubbing sun screen on the children you
could never decide if you wanted
Tongues bit off mid sentence, leaving flapping mouths like trout gaping for breath,
a hook adorning your upper lip; they smile while their mouthsfillupwithblood
The disntant clink of glass clad corona dances a tango with the pier's monotonous horn
Thursday, August 27, 2009
Drowning
Fish-lips chapped and pursed
covered in my mother’s lipstick-
the shade they discontinued that
differed from the color of my father’s collars
suck the marrow from my spine
as I wince and writhe,
pleasure centers making hollow homes
in my collarbones for masochistic lovers
Curled toes that hug the end of wooden
diving boards, poised and solemn
perched on the pressure of knowing you
were given more choices than your parents were
Bubbles prick the surface of a syrup coated pond
dappled shades of honey-wheat
a trench coat cover for four years of
planning on American Beauty that didn’t end in a bang
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