for fraternity, for artists without ambulances.
i waited for shooting stars in your yard
to burst righteously out of puddles
to wish on, and wish it gone, and wish
you'd be the magnet. you always were.
my blog is pink, i lied
about how much i love you.
you're a marathon runner.
and i wish i was more fragile. it would be
a better excuse. i lie about everything
that matters too much to lose.
you yelled for her, i drowned in salt.
i looked in puppy eyes and pretended to pray,
and pull white over me like a body in deep snow,
someone who lost the fight for her life, but i couldn't do it.
under thin sharp shards i just found stone,
the beat of searching and delirium ripping us down
to our protesting bones, bent and begging.
there's no breath near me now and all i have
to make a struggle for is soft made fur and warm
false eyes, and this, like you, doesn't want my help.
even when i gave and gave to life, it didn't take.
he arched his back but i miss her roughness.
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