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all dressed up: latest earliest send words scrawl in cement diaryland love: hopscotch (k)IF pellmell |
sent a package to my perhaps future wife yesterday. one dollar and thirty nine cents is the going rate for love letters, photographs and mixtapes: dear her, chicago seems distant and far where crosstown trains cannot reach. whoever shines a scent of bright italy shall seem forever too beautiful. i write you a somehow surer letter to be never kept within possible vermilion boxes, but within a breast half full of france. to someway speak and compare of rivers and lakes of white northern lights elevated above blinding illinoise is to foolishly confuse your burgeoning bellezza for mere water. and ô sweet symphony of hands embracing cold light asunder. a ruthless plunder of my phototaking eyes. i wonder about personal pronouns – object, directly. breathtaking she inspires most likely a him. a long lost secret that only the mediterranean might know. would that dante could have felt the warm embrace of his sweet beatrice. i imagine your tongue forming the child words of another peninsula. the heave of oceans and bodies of matter because bodies matter in a rhythmic sway of salt drenched lips and hair. fleeting minutes. a rushed stop before mine. irving park on a wholly holy saturday. an empty seat and me, speechless. stopped ravensomething seething through third lines connecting one place to yours. mere paces that these shoes could trace. but didn’t. striking lack of latitude. our perhaps parallel lines - yours more perfect than mine. all day and i-sixtey-five spent spinning wouldhavekisses and shouldhavecaresses. if i wrote this letter a thousand times it still wouldn’t be good enough. for you. sean songs: belle and sebastian - the model jonny cash - ring of fire previous * next |