frankie says October 29, 2010 at 5:07 pm The first time was the only time I would ever love. This truth a cathedral of light on new breasts. The second time was the only time I would ever love. This truth in his growling voice, earth's own rustling. The third time was the only time I would ever love. That flannel practicality. The fourth time was the only time I would ever love. This signature of truth in dark blue hickeys on his ribs. The fifth time was the only time I would ever love. Lost in a hallway, drunk, it was dark when I chose. The sixth time was the only time I would ever love. The body rose of its own accord. The seventh time was the only time I would ever love. Everything trembles.
Kristen says November 6, 2010 at 12:07 am Your sister's hair is already pulled out from your mishap on roller skates. Your lover's trust is gone once your tongue licks that other mouth. Your grandpa's leg is hurt as soon as you think of sticking your foot out. Once your heart is open it is as good as broken. The simple doneness about regret is that, it is already done.
frankie says
The first time was the only time I would ever love.
This truth a cathedral of light on new breasts.
The second time was the only time I would ever love.
This truth in his growling voice, earth's own rustling.
The third time was the only time I would ever love.
That flannel practicality.
The fourth time was the only time I would ever love.
This signature of truth in dark blue hickeys on his ribs.
The fifth time was the only time I would ever love.
Lost in a hallway, drunk, it was dark when I chose.
The sixth time was the only time I would ever love.
The body rose of its own accord.
The seventh time was the only time I would ever love.
Everything trembles.
Kristen says
Your sister's hair is already pulled out
from your mishap on roller skates.
Your lover's trust is gone
once your tongue licks that other mouth.
Your grandpa's leg is hurt
as soon as you think of sticking your foot out.
Once your heart is open
it is as good as broken.
The simple doneness about regret is that,
it is already done.