05.11.04 - 4:33 p.m.

oh someone whose hair i can cut, who
will don sparkles at a moments notice
and take me dancing or spend a sunday breakfast
in silence, smiling and getting sunburnt
eating as much as i am and offering bites in
raised-fork language, denoting something delicious
with the fluttering of eyes, someone
to trade tiny love poems for pictures
and spend an afteroon watching television,
playing with cats. someone who takes
copious amounts of digital photos of herself and
always acts like she's an imposition, who is as
preoccupied with drinking more water as i am:
oh you, hurry up and get here. i can't wait to live with a girl again.

spend afternoons measuring time in spoons
previous next

the project museum

the revolution will be catalogued

this american life

the library of congress

i used to believe







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