June 6, 2011

Just bought jeans
because they keep the cold out.
I’m all hands-in-pockets wondering
what this is about. Distance measured
in footsteps my length is hitched
to the pull of brakelight over curb.
This reddened world is plumed with flair:
a cracked vase on the stoop; a tricycle
popping wheelie stylings; pony tails
pulled tight in steamy morning mirrors;
an arm pushed through sweater
then moved through day’s many motions.
I’ve drawn circles in the air to wake you
a world away, killing butterflies en masse.
You like the way my finger traces
your escape searching for your spot.
The kiss that seals our goodbye
steps through the swinging glass to blink
hello to the wall-less world outside.
All the doors are open, and all of them
flood the street with lives once lived
as if to say: nothing will ever be new.
My movements are choreographed
by doppelgängers on distant planets
that speak the language of my wreckage.
Your twin is there translating love
at the molecular level with supernovas
that fade into the porcelain skin
that keeps you from expanding.

LOCATION: Buenos Aires, Argentina – Walking from the capoeira school to my home thinking about Eric Green’s crazy theory, a girl, and what to eat for dinner.

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