Thursday, September 20, 2012

Where i Lose Me


light 
they say 
comes at the end.
naturally I resist

endings. quirky
that will
inserting itself on the edge 
of gyrating cigarette swirls.

death. death. death
intoxicating. patterns
like strippers
who wouldn’t even fuck you that way

no matter how much money you have.
light is the Fort Pitt tunnel
the end. 
urban to country

or vice versa. 
cunt and trees
wide open for
a minivan

pounding
freedom. 
sighing 
together.

making new.

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