December 11, 2012

Heavy with Desire.

Moths in my chest flutter then stop

Their sweet, sticky tongues

flickering long out to chomp on

the carcass that throbs there unsteady 

Removing it would be of no consequence

for it’s already in shreds, useless

yet the dull ache of it lets one know 

that the rest of the body lives on 

Days of staring, holding devices

That are meant to connect

But I’m only divided…

Where are you my friend?

Did you brush my hair?

Did we look at the stars?

Yet even then I was looking on us

As beloved memories from afar

Full with missing and heavy with desire.



Ed: Brianna B.


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