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poetry [ ]
w/th a little help from my friend, Corina

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
by [nocolour ]

2010-11-17  |     | 

a little bit of faith
is all I asked of you

and you avoided the pebbles
thinking you know the way better
you entered the house wet
and made love
your skins smelling of
bed bugs
then she smoked a cigarette
or many
while you were counting the windows in the room
and the mirror seemed
like a world where you
were called adam
and she was called whatever

you left late
while the poppies were still dancing
in the first rays of light
with her sandals in your hands
avoiding the pebbles
thinking you know the way better

one grain
that’s all
but oblivion
like dust on a lonely naked sole
like a cloak
forgotten on a tall hump

you’re not coming back
into my plans
you and her

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