4/6/12

She


Had the gravity of a falling piano
but not the kind that will hurt you
standing with stars frolicking geometrically about
your head and ivory keys where teeth used to be
are used to being quarter notes slightly off key
where your eyes used to be where you asked
to see it again again thinking it can
happen it can’t happen you can try you do not
try the kind of ice cream you like you choose
the kind handed to you by her the kind
that taste less a slurp of creamy coolness
more the sharps and flats left behind the white
maybe they are right behind not left or used
or kind or in love or what are you looking
at anyway you just can’t look away.

© 2012 – Mark A. Douglas – All Rights Reserved

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