Saturday, May 30, 2009


Something like remembering
some Autumn spent in bed
flustered from the trees

this is your skin
as an absence
your body as some reminder
of days of breath as fog

I can't touch anything
brushing the streetlamp
like your phantom shoulder

Please re-materialize
before me
before Autumn

That season as
a sickening
haunting event
where every sensation
of the body
(what I could say
of those shoulder blades)
of the ephemeral 
chill like a singular
skein swallowing me

I'll hope you're more
material than this

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