praises.
2005-11-08 6:44 p.m.
hands tight tight to their muscles, to their bones, a place to call home when the cold sets in, go retreating into mittens, into warm caresses, for the sake of silenceactive hands, left to their own devices, make choices we'll learn to regret in the long future, make memories in blood streams, leave me
pew kneed and speaking reprimands, giving second chances without authority, i can tell you what has happened, but please fail to repeat
my actions
my actions
they are haunting me in heartbeats - a slow form of obsession that is growing in the body, that lays me down to sleep and then keeps that prize held from me
i wrestle god until the sun returns, but it gets me nowhere. my hips are intact, my mouth undisgraced. my letters send and come in quick responses, but my actions
my actions
are haunting me in heartbeats, sore reminders of what it meant to be unhappy.