PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

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Imagine. And then I want to remember. I feel like chilly, blue rooms, Chinese food in the dark with you, comfortable couches and all of Rudy’s belongings right where they should be. I feel like a few hours of Sailor Moon, and the blinds half-open, or maybe half-closed. My pen asks me politely, later in the afternoon to bleed. My fingernails are but too rough to scrape against the sky this day—much too dreary for something like that. When the sun is out, perhaps, then I’ll take advantage of the horrifying—

These...sleepless, erotic little cherubs smile at me in my dreams. And what was the point of it all? I have only 26% battery left on my phone, and still 3 and half hours of work ahead of me. A Twix and some ocean spray, strawberry kiwi cocktail juices keep me going. My band-aids with orange and white labels from a doctor glisten in my purse like candy corn. Don’t cry.

Just think about sable-haired Snow White and the way she cuts gracefully into the laps of the old blue, sweet, turned-in toes gliding clumsily over the plastic seams. I have never seen her up close before. Beautiful. And where is Laura today?

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