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ransom notes keep falling out your mouth

midsweet talk, newspaper word cut outs

Created on 2006-06-30 05:57:23 (#10564326), last updated 2007-12-19

1,947 comments received, 3,516 comments posted

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Name:seekingosiris
Location:Milwaukee, Wisconsin, United States
Website:feed your head
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"'Think how you love me,' she whispered. 'I don't ask you to love me always like this, but I ask you to remember. Somewhere inside me there'll always be the person I am to-night.'"
-F. Scott Fitzgerald

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Listen. It's morning. Soon I'll see your hand reach
for my watch, the water will aggitate in the kettle,
but listen. Traffic. I want your dreams first. And
to slide my leg beneath yours before the day opens.
Wait. We slept late. You'll be moody, the phone
will ring, someone wanting something. Let me put
my hands in your hair. Who I was last night I would
be again. This is how the future holds me, how depression
wakes with us; my body shelters it. Let me
put my head on your breast. I know nothing lasts.
I would try to hold you back, not out of meanness
but fear. Oh my practical, my worldly-wise. You
know how the body falters, falls in on itself. Tell me
that we will never want from each other what we
cannot have. Lie. It's morning.

{Robin Becker}
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