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aayoung

Poetry, Prose, Art, Photography, Random Shit

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poetry

big trains through small tunnels

it struck me
as funny
that free condoms
handed out in
New York City
had subway maps
on the wrappers
in case you were erect
and desperately needed
to get
to Yonkers

Brooklyn, Florida

I love you
after all
these years,
yes, I love you
after all these years…

simply because…it’s tuesday

there are moments when the house

aches with his absence

as do i

my frank sinatra singing in our shower

i find myself sweetly seeking him

feet sliding into his house slippers

fingers slowly uncapping his beard oil

the tines of his sandalwood comb

face burrowed into his pillow

the scent of his shirt collar against my lips

not because he’s been gone long

because i have never felt love like this before

simply because…it’s tuesday

 

 

 

 

 

no substitutions, please…

shame comes staggering

unwelcome

through the bedroom door

when i consider the horrors

i once chose

to call love

city confidential

i’m guilty
of compartmentalizing
my life
no one will know each other
at my funeral
Robert Stack will narrate
the unsolved mysteries
there will be several unknown
oddly distraught
handsome gentlemen
friends from all over
and family
who will conduct it
like a senate hearing

my lip gloss

every part of you
should taste
of it

and yet his smoke will rise up forever

he was
the cigarette
i didn’t have
a match for

ecstasy

glowing
gasping
i quaked
as he reentered me
he said
i’m sorry…i’m sorry
i told him never
apologize
for ecstasy

the sort meant for kissing

he told me
i had the most beautiful lips
heart shaped
the sort meant for kissing
so i showed him
they were capable
of so much more

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