Last Night

February 26, 2009

It still smells sticky in the cracks in my fingers
and I’m still pulling you out from between my teeth.
I’m killing my dreams by trying to remember what the skin on the sides of your neck feels like and it’s frustrating to realize that the entire moment remains a blur.
I can’t even remember if you’re a good kisser.
But between the pages of our bodice ripping paperback I’m concluding that this is what I needed to remember
that my heart should remain in my own chest
instead of beating so loudly it shatters windows and makes babies cry.
Perhaps I should be more careful.

He’s the giant squid I see in my imaginary submarine as I explore the deep blue oceans. I dream of that moment in the dark when I see him through the thick glass and can sing me ocean lullabies.

and you’re that lobster at the restaurant I ordered yesterday.

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