"Wise men talk because they have something to say; fools, because they have to say something."
- Plato




Tuesday, June 8, 2010

we stub ourselves from tiny moons that stick out
past the edges of our toes.
and i drag my heels against the carpet,
static surging up my spine,
and the lightning bolts I will create against
the hair on the back of your arms.

and faces that each other do not know
burn in the back of our minds.
the past doesn't matter, right.
we cling to each other,
nose to nose.

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