I was out most of yesterday hence reblog and I believe I will be out today as well



My instincts cannot comprehend

The necessity of affectation

They implore me to drink

Even as I stand before you now

Drunk on the nuance of your exhale


I study you under a sodium vapor lamp

A love, that on entreaty would destroy

My tongue tampers with the dimensions

Of your smile, wondering if a promise could

Be suctioned from your failing lungs

Like a child’s petulant cry for mercy


I prefer the invention of romance

To its application, some moments

Become astringent when held

Too long against the palate


The suspicion of maneuver

Tears tenderly at my heart,

But my pride is not forthcoming

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6 responses to “Disposable

  1. I once dreamed about a woman whose entire body was wrapped the way this woman’s face was wrapped. Only her face was showing, and her eyes were closed as if she was unconscious. Her body had been cut into cubes, yet she was alive. I was only six years old when I had this dream, and I have often felt as if my personality was fractured due to all the psychological trauma and self-doubt that I have undergone in my life.
    My pride is never forthcoming. I lost it long ago.
    Excellent poem to go with a striking image.

    • What a dream and to have it when you are 6 it definitely speaks of trauma. I understand what you mean about feeling fractured and the self-doubt as well painful.

  2. ah i would def rather the application of love than its invention…and def over the fabrication….smiles…love is much work…but it is good work…

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