Thursday, April 20, 2006


The wanting witch
meets me at the corner
of my failures.

She gives me a script - it's supposed to make
you happy but I always
forget to open
my mouth.
My lips are permanently
blue. I
use my hands to pry open

The wanting witch teaches gravity.
She kicks me for losing
and for being young.

At times, I think the birds
in the sky will drown me,
like they know
who's unfit for the air and the envy
of clouds
becomes apparent.
The diamond sun burns my eyes
in retribution.

The wanting witch
says you have been lonely
without me -

She sends me to be
where you've been.

It stinks of your

Knowing you had us both,
I practice
the faraway mythology
or the curse.


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