for ws

I’m slowly dismantling myself
With these shots of vodka
And these pills of Valium.
And you’re slowly separating
The cellular structures
From my memory
With your unidentified coordinates.

Your responses slip over my skin
And present themselves as shaking leaves
Clinging to the branches of trees –
Trees that have rooted themselves inside a planet
That will spin

And everything I remember of your face

And your skin

Cling to me as leaves grasping branches

But I cannot decipher your language.

My ears fail to transcribe the tones that trickle from your tongue
But please,
Speak to me.
I’m asking
I’m pleading
Under the dimly lit street lamps that illuminate cul de sacs and broken blades of grass
I’m pleading
Speak to me.

Throw your voice into the breeze
And my flesh will attempt to capture
Your symbols
Your letters
Your words
Your unspoken pain.

The stars cherish my envy
For they know the dialect that escapes from your lips.
The very lips I recall capturing on my tongue.
Yet I sit here, under those stars at 1AM
A one-way conversation that disobeys the primal desire
That keeps my heart pulsating and my blood red and alive.

Here is a blade
Slice me open and inspect the inner workings
The contraptions and devices
That linger and tremble
With blood red alive

Speak to me.



~ by the coordinates of memories on 10 May 2011.

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