perfect storm

i asked you to see me and you said you saw me

at least i think you did, i couldn’t make out the sounds

as they fell from your beautiful mouth, your lips

they’re so much fuller than mine and i‘m hypnotized by the shape

reminding me of winter clouds seen from airplane windows

inviting me to lay down as they levitate at ten thousand feet

they rain those words, the gravel and honey in your voice

all around me

you – anything, everything – you

the perfect storm of distraction

please keep me here, beneath you

i… don’t… want anything but this

with you, i don’t need an umbrella

a. duncan, 2017

 

 

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"She would fill endless notebooks with stories about the characters in her life, their impressions, words, friends, lovers, inspirations, fantasies. She spent her days dreaming up worlds where they fit together in visions; the if only, the never again, the someday. Those who knew her best would describe her as a creature with a clear and sometimes painful sense of herself; furious with ideas and convictions, to a point that she frightened love away with discernment and a relentless strength of character."

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