darkbloom8
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Start
10:27 AM Jan 9th, 2010
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With my mouth full of cherries, I hold up my hand against the sun, still so bright, it feels like one of those day that won't end.
2:52 PM Jun 14th, 2009
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On the street, you pick cherries from branches that stretch out from someone's yard and drop one in your upturned shirt and one in my mouth
2:43 PM Jun 14th, 2009
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I forgive you because it's me you've sketched out on the table. I laugh since either it's funny or I know we can't count on leaving soon.
11:14 PM May 29th, 2009
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I work this part of you on the burned carpet with the yellow flystuck curl of paper over us, when, finally, I stop and you ice my shoulder.
10:39 PM May 29th, 2009
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Getting back in the car, you say, Let's go. The man's not moving, but his eyes watch us. Ahead, the hot air hugs the highway like syrup.
10:07 AM May 23rd, 2009
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I keep the car running as you talk to the man, who waves back at his truck's gleaming grill. You look down the black top. He grips his iron.
10:02 AM May 23rd, 2009
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The man's worksuit is whipped tight by the wind, but he's not giving signs of distress. in 112 degrees I'm not wanting to read any into it.
9:51 AM May 23rd, 2009
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A man's on the road's shoulder, along which runs a jagged crack like a scar. In a white gloved hand he holds an iron. His truck's far back.
9:46 AM May 23rd, 2009
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You're hat's in the grass and a girl's pulled by a man into the back of a car. Your eye is black. I bend over, you say you didn't touch her.
10:04 PM May 20th, 2009
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I take your preoccupation as permit to walk, though it's dark and my cigarette smoke's even hidden until oncoming headlights illuminate it.
9:46 PM May 20th, 2009
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It's a fire, and all I can see by the hood is your hat's sharp rim sticking out of the smoke. I let my foot hang out the half-opened door.
9:41 PM May 20th, 2009
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I am also drawn to the girl at the gate, her bare ankles crossed, because her head hangs like she knows more than she should.
2:56 PM May 18th, 2009
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Walking away, you don't observe yourself. You lack curiosity in the observation of yourself, and lack, even, an awareness of that absence.
8:13 PM May 11th, 2009
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What? You say. Now you don't want to talk? You say "sorry for leaving, I was mad," but your voice is wood and wind.
7:55 PM May 11th, 2009
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I'm in mid-sentence when you walk away from the wood and wire swing into the dark. Finally, I'm fine and it's a fine night, warm and fine.
7:48 PM May 11th, 2009
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It's not the gapped walls but the coat hanging in the closet companioned only by empty hangers that makes me put down my hand and hurry out.
1:12 PM May 6th, 2009
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You're fingering the paper fallen like white chocolate shavings from the wall. Lately, we walk from room to room over large chunks of wall.
12:31 PM May 6th, 2009
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A wire hanger snaps up around my ankle as you reach for a door. There's no need to close a door here. There isn't even a door here to close.
12:26 PM May 6th, 2009
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You're upset that I push the shoulders down on my turquoise blouse. But I want to eat Mexican. My hair is rosed like Rembrandt's Saskia.
8:14 PM Apr 15th, 2009
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- Name darkbloom8
- Location New York
- Bio The virtual life of a character in the current live dance performance Dark Horse/Black Forest by Yanira Castro & Co. See PS122 for info.
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