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R u m m y   P a r k

b y   R e b e c c a   L u   K i e r n a n

32.  He Is You

Hungry for your mouth,
I unzip your flight suit.
Uncocooned from drab olive
Your naked flesh
Takes away my breath.
He is you. You are him.
I'm not as much of me
As before,
But then, you never knew.
So, here are my tremulous hands.
This is the marigold bed.
There is the lancet door.
And all this is glitter in between.
I'm addicted to the smoke and mirrors,
All the bullshit that buffers
The raised neck hairs of the first kiss
From the ambivalent fucks of the end.
Nothing is forever
Except for the way I'll remember
You looking just after I say this,
Eyes on the floor,
Lips slightly parted,
Head shaking "no"
Below your level of perception.
You've never looked so beautiful,
So like the way
He must remember me.

poetry & photos © 2006 Rebecca Lu Kiernan

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