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Saturday, October 6, 2012


I stare at you, your back
I search the space in the middle of your shoulderblades
I listen in the break between breaths
I wait for the shift in your heartbeats

there is no place for us.
there is no time for softness.
these things are often messy.
these things are often hard.

we dream malignant dreams
that squeeze our chests upon waking
dreams that keep; dreams that scour
terrors of what we could be

this is the place we stagger. 
this is the place I falter, for you.
this is the place they warned us of.
this is the place I thought I knew well.

I'll push into the shape you make for me
I'll edit myself until I become yourself
I'll curl at the edges
I'll forget who I was

For I cannot pretend to ignore you.
Cannot feign coolness, disregard.
For you are the name I whisper in darkness.
You are the memory I play in my sleep.


  1. The interaction of two expectations, real or imagined. Synergistic effect.

    I find this intriguing: if the narrator's shape curls to change, it could, in theory, un-curl to revert (nothing is gone forever, necessarily).

  2. I really appreciate your input, Jack.
    this poem is really trying to delve into a relationship with both unlimited and finite potential. it's asking the question, 'what do we do with these feelings we have, when we know our relationship is flawed? where do we go?'