Nothing Heeds Like My Heart * work in progress

 

as skin

peels

and your eyes

tear,

beer bottles break

against the wall;

I have this habit of finishing things

and the moves you have that

touch my face—

as skin

peels

and eyes

tear

as sweat from broken beer bottles

on a wall.

 

I just wish I had

you

in my arms;

I’d breath you up,

and spit you out,

on walls as thick,

fold you in a pocket

I had

between

my arms

and on ribs, I wish…

hard, as sweat

from broken beer bottles

on a wall.

 

‘o better life—:

 

our bodies got so much fever—

fill it up with

dirty blood,

throw it up

to watch things fog

 

‘o better life—:

 

I know a place

we can rest our eyes

 

and bodies—they got so much fever—

fill them up with

so much dirty blood,

thrown up,

to watch

rearview windows

smeared and

fogged

 

the holes are still there,

between arms and ribs,

clothes are damp—

I make a good hole

like myself in the wall,

and nothing heeds

like my heart

when it knows

what it needs.

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