from bed, unfinished – gotta go

the corner of her eyes is where surprise lies and tears wash by an eighth of an inch wide where fear resides the most haunting and beautiful space on her body framing without symmetry her sense that captures and filters images that swirl from childhood girl puking on the tilt-a-whirl to the thrill of torture tunnel antics with her first boyfriend i get lost in the erosion of skin, the folds from wind, a crease and bend that shows where you’ve been it’s that same shape where your lips meet as we greet on windy november days not waiting to clear the street sidewalks where we listened and i noticed your love glistened the folds of your nape my fingers finding familiar spaces as my mind races wondering if you can hear my apprehension i’m breathing too close where your lobe dangles forming another perfect triangle. i stop to gaze. stepping back. your nose crinkles. it’s the connection points of your familiar five that inspire me to stay alive. society tries to sell me where my eyes should stray it’s the tucked away places i can’t quite say that intrigue me to stay. i’ve seen your baby pictures. your beauty lives in the developed creases where…..

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