Drinking ashes
out of an aluminum can
I know now
I only have two original bones
in my cryptic body
and they both need
chiropractic manipulation.
Like a series
of zippers stitched
diagonally
to the left half
of your brain,
we got caught on
theoretical threads
and scurried off to the stream
to fall in love
on Lucifer’s blackest beach.
I was wearing
your best lie
wrapped in muffled
confessions;
I couldn’t read your crooked
kiss –
like (you were) saying
he’s a beautiful
writer
vs.
he writes
beautifully.
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