Thursday, November 29, 2007

when your father said
don’t get your heart
stolen, you ran out
onto the beach, eyes weighing
the sky, and you called to ask me
if there were a place
in my big city
to dream, understanding
that in a perfect world, you could
pick up that coral and be
with me, like listening
for the ocean, sleeping
in my mouth
.
20071128:1710
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