Friday, April 24, 2009

Raw, Tired, Written

How raw am I?
Open like a mouth,
open like the palm,
open like the Christ cave,
open on the floor. 

Read all the words,
and read them backwards, 
cry, fall down, laugh
write your letters, tell your 
friends you miss them.

How raw am I?
Only as much as I am tired.
My food expires,
I wake too late. 
Our apartment collects
dust and empty dishes, 
I sleep on the floor.

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