Thursday, May 31, 2012


If I ever get one, it will be a fleur de lis on the inside of my wrist, to remind me of this night at dba + the lessons this city has taught me about love, mourning, and music.


            fleur de lis

walked in
last night
for $5
I received
a stamp

she took my wrist
turned my veins toward
the stars
and presented rubber
to my skin
leaving an imprint
of a fleur de lis
along the most visible
and fragile
feature of my
blood supply

later, that wrist would run along your scalp,
grasp onto your neck
and, ultimately,
push you away

today we kissed for the last time
and it was a sad goodbye
because, just as this city has stamped itself onto my skin
so have you

given me reason to believe
in rebirth
so have you

given me a very vulnerable sense of fragility
like those veins that could be sliced
instead of stamped

I'm scared of either possibility

and I know you'd save me
and don't intend to harm me


the most difficult part of any
grieving process
is mourning the loss
of what might have been

Dec 17 2010

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