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by [nicam ]

2008-10-05  |     | 



You told me not to bring god up unless he was out of the question. I stared
As the shapes of your smell were noisily growing, rushing towards some kind of a point.
Making it forced me to shut down all gesture, all attempt to exhale.
Nothing cold bound to bind us, just the skin they all touch in order to know. I gazed
But no kindness was watching.
Without any fear there’s no going under, you shouted
So the plastic house could understand our game and embrace it.
Then the top of my nose broke loose gently, praying for objects
Instead of approval or a chest to sleep on at the end of their squint.


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