2.04.2012

Leaving home

I was the one you told that night
the one you held on to
before you turned into a
chiseled, lock-jaw, mouth.
An angular man
stretching in boyish skin.
I loved to look at you then,
with flesh and eyes like mine.
Now you cause a tender pain
a blueberry bruise.
You slither away into
your sunken, half-shell, house
while I hover on the step


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