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Untitled (PC)

Posted to Poetry




"this is boring
you" he said
and placed a warm palm
on my knee
as if
to get my attention
which he had and
more than that
I wish I could have
thrown it away this
female empathy
judgment into
the mind before
I lost my chance
but I'll always by young and
he'll
always be married

on a soft carpet
wind whistling around
the building
a party
joints cut with tobacco from
a split cigarette
three kinds of wine
winding down and suddenly
us alone there
the night too long to
feel anything for
a first time
too much rustling of paper
and women
in the other room
even the simplest moment
is complicated in three directions
repetition makes it
seem inevitable
a touch someplace
in memory
writing
makes it so
the meaning forced
with a harsh pen and
three fingers

at some point I
must have signalled
a retreat for want
of abandon I
have no strategy for
failure

for falling