January 2011
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carla morrison- compartir
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Califone- Funeral Singers
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Cotton in the Air
Your polished back is arched like Saint Louis. I can see your fingers pushing into the bricks when I lift your hair to smell October drain from your neck. You are cotton caught in the air I am unfurling laces in your body. I move on you steady like a fleet of ships pushing ice. I want to break it all. Your tank top strap slips down the huh huh of your shoulder and I will not strain meaning from...
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Someday, somewhere - anywhere, unfailingly, you’ll find yourself, and that, and...
– Pablo Neruda (via potluckdream3r)
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Shh
it was suppose to be the summer of love but it was just a summer the heavy air clinging to our windowpanes gurgling in the continual high noon
your bed is a lollipop in an oven we never say i love you so i’ll use the word…kumquat
I admit, I came after you like a collapsing elevator you were in the basement keeping your ribs warm with photo albums
I admit, I knew how to find you...
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