shower
glimpses
glass
admit
roses,
face
around
times
polaroid
moon. |
i'll generally remember you as
a kind of
curtain, through which i could catch blurred
of your sister; you were my voyeur binox, my
darkly, a lust-object palimpsest. yet i'll
i was not unmoved by the charm of your neu-
by the discarded look that swept across your
at my every snide remark. i never did get
to your sister. but i suppose you and i shared
and places of our own--a shoebox full of faded
memories, a naugahyde sky, a toenail
|