Monday, July 26, 2010

Like The Dance

To The Captured,

Used to sink inside when the car pulled out even for a few minutes. Even if he was just picking up sandwiches and sodas.

Now I float like big girls in deep ends.

And it's the last week in July, so the cherubs are out. If I stand still enough I can hear them breathing under the lights. I can feel them squeezing their toes into glass slippers and skinny dips.

That's where we met you know.

I knew he'd come back, not that he ever left.

The cherubs are out.

Skin and Toast

P.S. Learn your lines, verbatim.

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