Wednesday, April 6, 2011


it's all the same to me
the way we're different

in the middle of the night
we wake up
uncomfortable in our skin
in unmade beds

our flesh warm
beneath goose feathers
exposed to conditioned air
our limbs numb
wrapped around syndromes
lips repeating the name of love
oh god oh god oh god oh god

for some it is a battle cry
and for most
a cry
some sort of loss
but for me
and for you
it is a thank you
and someone whispers you're welcome

the bed disappears
our lips find each other
my fingers trace your spine
a piece of me dies

your fingers strike a chord
and love and fear become the same word

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