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PostPosted: Mon Feb 18, 2008 5:45 am
by dks

she thinks about their birthdays
how they obsess and adore—
how they look at themselves naked
in toothpaste spackled bathroom mirrors

she tastes names
and catches swallowtails
in jars—
they are her ideas

ideas addling
and so crowding her quivering brain
their finish presses hard
against every sense

making a seething storm an ambassador
morning sun a yawning god
streetlight a slicing testy sorbet—
permitting color to bathe her in creamy shine

her greatest loves
are her ideas
her phantasms talk plainly about a host of things

she doesn’t speak at all