Friday, March 7, 2008

melancholic lust

i wonder how you will feel inside me.
next time. if there is a next time.
roll over, alone. counting days.
i have ten fingers and ten toes.
and two breasts.
i can count to twenty-two.
i can count the ribs underneath my breasts, too.
can count minutes, hours, days.
weeks.
months.
years.
for you, i will count years.
still dark, streetlight sends a thin ripple over time
whatever time it is.
even the ducks are quiet.

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