Tuesday, November 22, 2005


struggle this fantasy forward
bringing boys out of works,
out of home, out of love and
out of something spectacular
to use them like dolls on a platform
designed through improvability,
provincial stitching and strategies
languished in disguise like girls.

she licks ice cream from a spoon
reminding you of cats and tails and
other things you're use to.
you wish her closer and stop
one foot in the air in a dance
until metaphors become you;
until you persuade her green
and her eyes to follow the steps.

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