strung

poetry

i had a dream
your skin was ten times silk
and grabbing you was
like grabbing heaven’s clouds
but it wasn’t true
and you like it that way,
anyway

on my ride home from work
i watched a jogger’s ass as i
passed
by
and thought all these sweet things
that grew stale in the air

and then there was all that decay
around me and
then
i knew its rate