6.24.2011

Day 87 (Internal Dialogue with my Boehner)

And they spoke silently to live ear and it's Medusa hair
a gentle whisper falling hard on soft skin
win win win
 
One word on loop through the listless leaves
the melted sand futures of your drinking glass
pressed to shivering lips
the gasp and gargle
to quench the unquenchable
 
Dry throat and soft palette
High hopes and low self esteem
 
You tuck your tail between thin legs
inhale and inflate calm chest

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