Tuesday, September 4, 2012

of steam and avocados

there is only
the slickness of cast off memories
the clouds have left in their wake
a perfume
of steam and avocados
the conversations of goddesses
far off in the distance
and my own silence
blending like ink
into the pool of night
for whatever words
i used to have for you
like stray cats
in sudden headlights

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