February 2012
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her heart never skipped
the girl never knew where to put her hands
and her elbows sliced apart my ribcage
like a scalpel until she found the prize
my heart didn’t beat
not for her, not for anyone
nevertheless she massaged dead weight
she stopped dreaming of the moment when her
heart would skip a beat
because the girl with clumsy hands
deserved more than a heart that gave out.
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we walked on appalachian trails
in search of ourselves
we looked up, rummaged through the clouds
until we realized we were only the dirt
beneath our feet.
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