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forestfire exhalationher verses burn silent, in an existence lost in forestfire's exhales
a wildfire waltzing inexorably over her naked forests drowning in untouchable glass.
she crowns me queen in the city of desertfire,
they burn blackholes over scientific studies; (over the skin that wraps me,)
like an empty gift burning in the smoke that rises,
over star-reaching treetops:
wastefull consummation to the greatest.
[ her porcelain hipbone
is my perfect canvas
to ink all the beauty i know ]
we are the earth's nonbiblical scapegoats,
questionmarks tremble over our complexion
asymmetry and contours of a shadow-city in the comas we live.
this fiery war never began in our fiery hearts; but only by thoughtless ink,
by the ink made of burnt bone, marks of a trembling hand over mooncolored sheets
upon this page materialized from the unclothed centuries under our feet.
the april wind, the neverlasting cold; was my envelope to a bruised confession:
"i never wanted this to end"
and sealed th
All Here For A ReasonI turned onto a shady, well-manicured driveway that, for all intents and purposes, looked harmless enough. Maple trees lined both sides of the street, and a parade of Canadian geese marched across the road to a wide duck pond with a flamboyant fountain. There were blooming crepe myrtles and rose-of-sharons, and as I grew closer to my destination, neatly trimmed gardens with neatly trimmed bushes.
I stopped to let the geese pass. They looked at me; one hissed. I honked my horn and moved around them.
At the end of the road sat a collection of grayish buildings and a number of signs directing me to the appropriate parking lot. "Welcome to Ten Creeks Hospital," said one of them. "Please enjoy your stay." I parked in the visitor's lot. Surely I wouldn't be staying.
I was shaking when I got out of my car. I had spent the morning getting high. One foot in front of the other, flip-flop noises, hot sidewalk. Mulberry and magnolia trees, freshly shaved grass. A bench and pan for smokers. A set o
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