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a preface to the next women's revolution.
about how much i miss being in love. born on easter sunday. even when i'm smoking all the time. hialeah dirty-talk (revised). how icarus and i share consistent paths: i may be the only woman who hates sylvia plath -- i'm seventeen, melodramatic, and pissed at you (ode to miami). i've gotten used to stumbling often (or, detachment). little haiti will never be my eden. loop road (leaving behind). loop road (shooting at soda cans). my body is not my body. please god love me. the next women's revolution: because i am a sailor. the veins that line your scalp. your third chance took a week to squander. 2007 2006 2005 home |
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because i'll never really get what "cease and desist" means, because there's pinpricks up my thigh from embroidering my jeans, because I swear to God my fingertips are tearing at the seems, my body is not my body, my dreams are not my dreams. because i dig in deep amongst, the crooked of my grin, because i'm tired out my skull of fucking drunk on gin, because i knew that old Manassas wouldn't swallow up his sins, my body is not my body, my skin is not my skin. because North Miami oft belies the filth it seldom shows, because Noremac and Quail Roost tend towards proxies of a home, because i cannot fathom gravel that compiles into these roads, my body is not my body, my bones are not my bones. mornings i watch the sun rise out the freeway to light up the graffiti and the dirt, and the footprints lining Biscayne turn to shrieking: "If this body were your body it would hurt." because the sidewalk obstacles are the hints i tend to drop, because i'm so detached that i know i can be bought, because i'm so complacent that it's do not or do not, my body is not my body, my thoughts are not my thoughts. |