Tuesday, 6 December 2011


there is a perfect person pawing at your heart,
there is a starting pistol shooting you into a padded cell,
there is heat, and soft wet darkness, ready to wrap up the night in foil,
there is a bitter inflection, abating my whole hearted flinging of my whole hot heart,
there is a fleck of blood on your lower lip,
there are three whole sentences from our conversation I can not recollect,
there is a point at which we are no longer reconcilable,
there is a person I remember whom I love with three quarters of my heart,
there is a house somewhere in my home town where I live happily with that person,
there are countless mediocre dimensions,
there is one where I am there for you,
there is one where everything I say shakes you,
there is one where everthing I do hurts you,
there is one where I am pawing at your heart, trying to wake you,
there is one where I am breaking you out of a padded cell,
there, there are people cheering our names.

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