Tuesday, April 29, 2014

npm: 4.29

For today's poem I used a Rachel McKibbens' writing prompt, located here(click)

I cannot wait to go back and edit all of my poems from this month. All of the ones posted are unedited drafts, and it will be interesting to see how they grow/change.



04.29

Dictaphone in the parking lot;
your hair unnatural yellow when
we first hit lips
I said
"follow me"
and you followed,
kitchen counter
old house, junkyard and train track.

We made up reasons to keep on touching--

a summer night I drove forty miles south
to talk you down from car roof,
laughing mad in own lap
you slid down windowshield
past my arms
liquid prisms on your lips--

waterbed morning, early
when sun was still stretching
clutter of floor
confession on a collarbone

you shaved your face while we fought
calm until not
blue sweater and Basics
the calmness we left it
not our bed
not our argument
smashed glasses
lost pilot, early morning speeches
so sweet
hurt teeth
too little/too late
old green
of the last time
we ever said
not yet

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