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hair of flowers,
by yawn of birds

previous entry: wheat

next entry: birthday

crime

01/29/2010

i can hear my dad on the phone with his brother,
chloe is never home. never here. 
pause.
pam can't be around her anymore.
again.
you know... maybe it will be good for us when she leaves.
listening.

 

i wear a key,
brass and rusted, around my neck.
soon my skin will be covered in ruins,
impressions of a bird's feet on my feet
and ferns on my arms.
moths will spread spotted wings on my back,
and feathers will hide behind my ears.

at heart,
i was born inside of a planet.
and the sun had sent the moon away
because she wasn't good enough,
so she came to live with her favorite child.
and in that babe's arms,
i sleep.

previous entry: wheat

next entry: birthday

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Gorgeous.

Hang in there.

[Birrrdy|0 likes] [|reply]

is that eisley on your frontpage?

that is my favourite band of all time.
all time.

[jodiStar|0 likes] [|reply]

Fire hot, Tree Pretty.

That's about where my brain is.

Keep going. Perseverance, persistence, and some other 'p' word that might sound inspirational. (my writer's group says I'm big on Consonance - yeah, I'm workin' on it)

*hug*

[The Venerable Pooh|0 likes] [|reply]

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