his body sleeps low beneath the water,
you don’t know what you’ll tell your daughter.
but something else was underneath him;
demon, god-starved soul. a heathen
way to act, but they can’t blame you
for taking out the trash, the sinew
building up and stretching out;
she’ll never trust now what’s within you.
things which comes across as anger,
hatred, soul-suck, pangs of hunger,
birds of prey. a prayer for your town;
don’t let him wake up in the place where he drowned.
- Cameron: Are you guys "e-flirting"?
- "Surfing the web" together
- "Hitting up yahoo" together
- "Logging into Bebo" at the same time
There will be times when the words don’t quite fit;
not inside your mouth, on your fingertips,
outside of situations in your head or near your hips.
There will be times when you’ll breathe much too fast
and regret will pool, and regressing snaps
you back towards yourself, away from my panic attacks.
There will be times that you’ll think back to me
and you’ll bite back sleep, and you’ll lucid dream
and conjure words that start with “L” and sometimes end in “E”.