1.12.2010

every once in a while

My tongue spits fire and creates
lasting im/de/pressions from
my vulnerable state of abandonment
(apparently we are dispensable perhaps even replaceable)
yet-you drift through life, defying our gravity
...and all the while wilting my eyes
...breaking my nights.

I'd like to one day show something other
than my blistered skin in disguise.

-M. Peña


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