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By Ali Date: 2007 Aug 11 Comment on this Work [[2007.08.11.17.13.3808]] |
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I fled the scene, these stars, redefining the cataclysmic difference between denial and attraction, this swarm of singing, sweet venom— a ring that isn’t mine. I waited with an empty telephone, pretending I wasn’t, pretending I didn’t— all the while deciding if I could believe you (I already believed in you, so far that, it is too late). Soon, your words will fall, a touch from the tenor of your voice, the back of your throat rumbling, a kind of half-growl that always stops my leaving— but like Samson, you are unaware, and these little wounds add up, making my paper-cut smile— I could render you useless, but I hardly care to— I hardly could. I’ve bled deeper than this before, so these paltry rivers only half matter. Do you quite understand the meaning? This is both an invitation and a warning— you must step up or have a care. |