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Literature Text
maybe if we enjoyed the lullaby of empty
dial tones, we would fall asleep somewhere
amidst the clatter of unanswered phone calls.
there is a melancholy to be found in silence.
nothing but the static between our muted voices,
only the sterile hum of knowing you are
watching TV or driving or laughing or fishing
or out with friends or asleep somewhere.
love is not a limb; if it's lost, it will always grow back.
i am discarded bandages and surgical knives.
you are an amputated arm; your phantom limb
haunts me whenever i doubt your ghost.
i learned a trick to uncovering the scent of a hospital without
actually going to one. pick a beach on Lake Michigan and swim
to the point on the horizon where the clouds become water.
you will find me there and immediately recognize the smell
of emergency. do not be alarmed; love is no urgent matter.
again, we will hug a hospital bed with no way to pay the bills.
the best way to dance is to a soundless song.
remember: the silence. when i’m restless,
i memorize your all-too-familiar voicemail greeting.
in it, you say your name as if it weren't holy, but just
another word in the dictionary. i correct your pronunciation
over & over until you say it the way i do.
you've never been patient. too often,
your bones rattle from all that rush & shake.
i've always been wistful. too often,
i fall asleep to the sound of your absence.
dial tones, we would fall asleep somewhere
amidst the clatter of unanswered phone calls.
there is a melancholy to be found in silence.
nothing but the static between our muted voices,
only the sterile hum of knowing you are
watching TV or driving or laughing or fishing
or out with friends or asleep somewhere.
love is not a limb; if it's lost, it will always grow back.
i am discarded bandages and surgical knives.
you are an amputated arm; your phantom limb
haunts me whenever i doubt your ghost.
i learned a trick to uncovering the scent of a hospital without
actually going to one. pick a beach on Lake Michigan and swim
to the point on the horizon where the clouds become water.
you will find me there and immediately recognize the smell
of emergency. do not be alarmed; love is no urgent matter.
again, we will hug a hospital bed with no way to pay the bills.
the best way to dance is to a soundless song.
remember: the silence. when i’m restless,
i memorize your all-too-familiar voicemail greeting.
in it, you say your name as if it weren't holy, but just
another word in the dictionary. i correct your pronunciation
over & over until you say it the way i do.
you've never been patient. too often,
your bones rattle from all that rush & shake.
i've always been wistful. too often,
i fall asleep to the sound of your absence.
Literature
sleepy.
snow white:
fruit of my eye,
freezing blood in my veins.
poisoned, tachycardic; i fear
the end.
Literature
.
i'll measure my life
in coffee grounds, in summer
freckles and you
Literature
no means no
I.
i can come off as being needy
needy- like the time he pressed up against me
and said it was okay
'this is what people who love each other do'
his shy words gripped me
‘i love you’
tighter than his grasp that night did
II.
at the time
it was hard for my head to wrap around
what his skittish words really meant
because love is a tentative word
i love falling asleep
(the same way i fell for him)
knowing there are stars above
strategically placed to protect me from
snagging shadows
i love the way i can feel
as if a shoddy blanket
(or a pair of arms)
can warm me for a fortnight
i love the way music leaves an imprint
(
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i'm hoping this will get me somewhere
Comments12
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that ending is going to echo at the back of my mind for a very long time.