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shock
i am in shock i just wanted to write the words across the page not jolt my way down the stairs each of my legs is a filament can you see the way my hair stands on end as i look at you my fingers coil into cables and jam themselves into any available sockets the friction between my clothes makes a sparkling crackling sound
loading
loading her boxes into the back of the truck the skin between her jeans and her shirt is visible raw and pale she drops a cardboard prism onto the pavement and it unhinges itself papers and pictures splattering everywhere like paint her face and the faces of everyone she loves flapping on the concrete
calories
calorie count she looks at her phone researching the number in the little leaf of lettuce she nibbled on before breakfast like a rabbit she crinkles her nose at the number pretends to shy the screen away from me this cry for help, her bushy tail cries for help her ears turned to see if i will cry, if i will nudge the carrot into her mouth, forcefully
exact
"exactly what i needed," Leo says as she massages his back (to be honest he is hoping she will go further press her hands under the black material) they have been dating for months now and come to the point where they simply long for each other's skin like sunbeams in cafe windows and the last drop of tea
accountable
i cannot be held accountable for my actions they flow from me they fly from me like sparrows on the trees i release them like breadcrumbs and they are gone do not trace them back to me like a spinning top spouting off arms and legs and limbs i do not hold the answers i do not hold the truth do not hold me (accountable)
derailed
derailed her hair was disheveled and her teeth were cooked and she walked curved in circular river motions veering left and right as she shook pennies falling out of her pocket pencils falling out of her coat she walked halfway across the street then turned sharply on the zebra crossing and went left
snapped
she snapped under the lights the two beams formed knives that split her right down the middle she had been thinking of life of college of love of lust of how she could possibly consider all the things that she needed to ever consider there was joy in the cracking she finally learnt what lay beneath her skin
octave
i stretch an octave splayed out across this couch play the lettered keys under me in time my eyes are closed and my skin is bare all the tones of tan of olive green of cobalt blue and canary yellow that my painting teacher swore to us lure within the creases
local
locally grown in my home i was birthed on this paisley couch that i drape my limbs on lazily in the summer (that we lay on breathing heavily secrets into each other's skin wrapped in our own understandings and desire) i cannot stray to far from this living room as your arms entrap my sides
will
where there's a will there's a way and there's a way to force one's will upon another it was dark at the party and his breath was hot and fast and dirty like the kebab carts on the street and the sticky air that slinks out of the old subway car doors in the city summer his breath smelt dark and dank like my grandfather's cellar smelt of rats of rat poison of nothingness i hated him in that moment i hate him still
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