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By twinkle Date: 2002 May 08 Comment on this Work [[2002.05.08.00.41.17340]] |
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he works down the street from my apartment, in a sandwich shop making my lunch. how romantic. he has very broad shoulders and eyes like a cave i am afraid to enter i like to watch his hands as he wrestles with my food something i tried to hide loves the veins and tendons toiling beneath that brown, brown skin it is july today beyond my small world the empty fields bake and swallow up the soil, gold and torched- white fences bursting out across the lonely highways no one ever travels this vapor town noon heat woke me as it curled into my restless veins slow like the descending of secrets onto a heart my room was very quiet in weariness of time so i put on this sly summer dress, the peach and purple flowers clinging to my curves it is monday today a desert afternoon underneath this bronze sky, and i am sweating down the long wide street to my only livelihood (fashioning turkey clubs and ham sandwiches) for all i have remains here in a lean weathered town and lean weathered hands, calloused by the wind. |