she breaks again
and everything is changing fast --
in her life, it's only ever been extremes.
something's hit, something sticks
and exposes her exposition
with convoluted sentences
and bright underwater lights.
she breaks again,
open and her yolk is spilling
all over your fresh linen hands
(air your dirty laundry in public while it's safe),
but it's too late
for all of you.
the first kiss that created the universe
was passed freely
between two laughing girls
on Capitol Avenue
sometime in two thousand and seven.
she breaks again
and leans to topple
but even across the world,
at the first cracking clap,
hands catch her peace rendered frame
and carry her slowly
to the finish line.
to the finished line.
because it's too late for all of you now.
the kiss that sparked creation
was a well-executed accident
neither gods nor monsters
could have foreseen.
...Run.
~~
It's fitting that this is post two hundred.
I miss you.
and oh, oh, oh, I'm on fire.
I love you, my hipster-headed angel.
-M.
1 comment:
I will run, if you will run with me.
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