January 27, 2006

and I walk down the street in the dawn

You, half-sunk in my duvet,
mock my seven year
thought:
You can sleep on clouds.

Turning my door handle, grinding marbles.
Quietly, quietly,
Oil it.

On my hallway walls, projections:

your pupils widening in five am darkness
your hands, sweeping across my mattress


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  • Nice to see these poems again, Niki. I really enjoyed reading them last year. by on this entry
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  • okay red fish–net tights (zzz) Alice as knife… (yay) Alice as bird… (sweetie, lay off the crack)… by Rodney Eats Dildos for Dinner on this entry
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