Thursday, February 27, 2014


i slide my palm
(unaware but not
into the slit of
threadbare denim
over a smooth
angle of hipbone
toward the deep
corner of pocket
where you  (a foreign
coin gathering
my heat) nestle

my fingers seek
your contour and
edges (my heart 
needs refuge far
away from here)

i settle and 
retract my hand
but you (unsettled)
you flee and 
flip through the

(no matter how familiar
the edges i never can
guess which side will
land upright to the sky)

heads or tails is
anyones guess

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