the stars, the sea, and sleep.

Wednesday, March 7, 2012

Day 56: Love and Porn in Culver City

Cold, but when pressed against the wall
Or pulled apart
It warms only to a sting.
The loneliest sing, a monologue
Of short gasps of sequential shock.
Traffic pushed the sun over the CNN tower,
Food was left to go in the pockets of my cheeks,
Zooming through a ghost town with a bloodless brother
Silence without sirens, and chasing the doctor.

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