None Of The Above

What you were. What you are. What you will be if you do not refuse.

I was the vagabond girl squatting in the failed King Street art studio
On nothing and on something and on everything I could.
I was the periscope peddler viewing the world through shiny lights and tender reflections
Reflections I once saw as my own.
I was the karma child looking for love in the wrong city, wrong state, wrong body
Still wandering the golden edges you left,
The only edges left.
I was the comma he settled under after the sun pinched his heart out
Out like the wind in her lungs and out like the sunken circles he left.
I was the parasol love you collected in the sun showers
Now fringed with dew.
And I was the missing link in your cellular conversation
The lost "I" in her "I love you too."

-

I was the broken cardinal on his front lawn before being bitten by biker boots
He didn't even look.
He didn't even look!
I was the tanning bed she watched for fifteen minutes from the incandescent corner
Coldly unused,
Consciously forgotten.
I was the willow tree that hid your hand up her skirt
Brown as her blue eyes.
I was the dreams she leaked onto her sheets with shame
And I would have lived this for her if I could.
I was the riffle and rosary fallen beneath the red sun
Dawn to dreary eyed dope fiends and stupefied Negligents.
And I was the split lip monogamy she held to her chest in the cold of the night
Don't care that close unless you can break the skin.
And I'd tell you once more,
Don't care that close unless you leave me sore.

-

I was the reincarnated shadow walker feeding off the fluorescent street signs
I won't hurt you.
I won't even come close.
I was the belligerent coast bird flaunting bare feet and a peace sign
Cigarette beat between my lips,
Do you have one last light?
I was the tan- line across his forehead, swallowing his childhood freckles
Creased as his corrugated lips.
I was the foreign marrow slinking into your bones
Are you grateful yet?
I was the rapture you found in the seem of your jeans
Are you happy now?
And I was the lost lovebird found by his mate on the edge of the moon
Dresden looked so smooth from above.

-

I am the steaming pornography novist loitering one centerfold staircases
The backbone of Tindertown education.
I am the reconciling brute of nevermore
Quoth the raven, foolish folklore.
I am the sabotaged nationalist cocoon
Deed deep, knee deep
Finger full.
I am the self proclaimed debutant with another anonymous tickle between her legs
Dare me to leave it at that.
I am the cadaver cap caressing your knee
And I am not the one who needs.
And I am the straw crutches resting in the back seat
I see you through the window.
Does the pavement burn?

-

I am the poet before the eclipse of the stars
They went away one day and sunk the sky with them.
I am the rooftop settler with sleeping bag in hand and fireflies in head
The lantern mothers of tomorrow
And the day after that
And the morning of last.
I am the pride of stimulation, the wincing break in her face
Over the counter love,
Under the cover loving.
I am the catalyst to your congealing sunset
Goodbye and goodbye.
I am the acrid high lacing her lungs
Dim deep
Dim drum.
And I am the kissing harmony of rain at his bare back
Aren't we all?

-

I am the memorial pain beneath her zipper
Slippery night lites,
And the tangled taphida under all.
I am the slap shot boy, lynching cattle cars and ash black windows
When you aren't listening to the radio,
Are you listening to the blink of mine eyes?
I am the tenderized carnival lights resting in her dark sunglasses
She looks frail, but I won't argue,
For this is her lightest night.
I am the capital F- A- G- G- O- T lunging from your lungs
The lowercase stutter you burn.
I am the Marlboro stain in his chest
Ladling out adjectives like alphabet soup.
And I am the sinner billy goat, tempting the troll from his bridge to the field beyond
Come closer...
We can play this game all night.

-

I will be the dream weaver's eighty second son
Packaged in rhinestones and double collars.
Packaged in vinyl and double dares.
I will be the aged lemon fallen too far from the tree
Don't leave,
Pleased don't leave me.
I will be the
Gold spun.
And I will be the
Gold done.
And I will be none
of the above.

 

Reviews

[raining]

Gone beyond, very good. i wisht i could see. It is brackets, so good i think, knowing i now turn away from writing myself, you have it pushed out there. I cannot express it you can. thank you. bye

[Solitary Existence]

This is really good. Your descriptions are so vivid!!!! It's long, but I didn't get bored with it. It kept me wanting to read more. Very nice!

[Kiara]

amazingly,
written indeed
i enjoyed reading this
beautifully descriptive piece
and the concept within it : )
-arabella