Tuesday, December 7, 2010

telling you telling myself

With so much brine
to swim through,
why would you
pursue this salt-cured
body? I've been pickled
for years before
you found me. Relax,
I tell myself.
I'm not the Dead Sea.
Just a tired young man
who smokes too much
chasing a lighter
state of being,
a young man from
far away who loves you,
and is fucked up anyway.
There's a line
for both of us,
we can do more than float.

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