enaj.adlaremse
ghosts waltz through the snow and leave traces of their former self.
footprints leading up to my door.
thick bushes caked in white.
uncertain cars on dangerous roads.
winter.
the mop slipped lazily on the floor. the handle was in slow motion, a stop motion movie at two frames per second.
hotel lobbies speak to me
in strange tongues.
the people around me crave to be anywhere but
here, seeking solace in champagne and swinging
chandeliers, beds that have been slept in by others just like
them.
her tears started fading when the morning light filtered through her tattered curtains.
she blinked one eye open and blearily shifted her gaze to the scratches on her chest.
they had healed quickly, leaving only faint white ghosts of their former selves.
ghosts of what they used to be.
the bruises on her thighs were now putrid greens and bloody blues.
the gash on her arm had swelled up but seemed to be getting better.
she rolled over in twisting floral sheets to grab for a bottle of wine she knew to be on the nightstand.
uncorked it and took one sip to wake up, the next for good luck.
finally forced her legs onto the dusty hardwood floor and commanded them to walk her to the bathroom.
the faucet turned on with a blink.
a new day.
when i first met her
holding our breath beneath a sea of stars
she hated that she couldn't breathe
then i held her hand
and showed her the pointy cactus coral
the sun bleached seashell skulls
and the fluorescent snakes swimming through the sand.
she didn't seem to mind
our constant underwater expedition
when we shared oxygen
beneath the galactic waves.
your face gets all red and scrunched up when you're angry. you think it's ugly but i think it's kinda cute, the way you're so irritable about every little thing. scratch that, i don't think it's cute, i think it's adorable. of course, telling you this will just make you angrier.
the cactus was facing west when i saw her.
she seemed about to take flight
sunset colors that outshone the moon
eyes so bright i thought they were my salvation
musical hands and a weathered perseverance.
desert drenched stomach
wrinkled eyes
cactus lungs
sharpened tongues
western drought
changes the horizon
can you relate?
do you know empathy
like i know the sound of you leaving my room?
can you feel the tears in my eyes
as they drip on your haphazard footprints and mix with the dust on the floor?
i relate to the sunflowers that float on the sea
the shells under the surf
the sand stuck in your hair
your best friend that you've loved since childhood
the clementines you share on the beach
i also relate to the fact that this poem is horrible i'm sorry bye
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