Sunday, December 7, 2008

titles, fragments and lines from things i may one day write

the far bank, i won't wake you up,
(or at least:
i'll whisper it in your ear while you sleep, 
__(it will sound like carnations, wednesday mornings, autumn-grey,

in silence we made perfect sense
(transverse a fog of dreams, a universe of static-noise, you'll see me at the far (bank) end)

skin, __my

and the nature of particulate matter defines what we can)and(not run away from, 
simply: the reality of particular matter: or all matter(s) as we understand it.them

so come then, come: then, & (all of now):
(everything) + me

as you wanted. 

______________________(and we are just breakable breakable breakable girls and boys.


Anonymous said...

this reminds me of a cold early winter morning, running out the door, the air drying and crispening up young skin and then bits of pink that creep through.
maps on skin....

a penny for the old guy said...

(i think the phrase 'maps on skin' is beautiful)

since you used it on my blog i can commandeer it ;)

(i kid, i kid)