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Miss Dahlia
Miss Dahlia 31 Dec 2017 Tag: lost 0 comments, leave your own..

People used to wait for me with bated breath.
This was when my hair was long and beautiful,
when I used to keep longing between my teeth
and the sounds of the ocean were tucked away in my cheek
and when you kissed me,
you said I was saltwater wonder.

I was a sad story on the newsstand, drawing you in,
riptide, drawing in the margins where you used to write poetry.
One day, I was worth a bouquet of half-dead roses.
On the next, I was bedside aspirin;
                you were the headache—
we tangled ourselves up
until I couldn’t tell my skin from yours and

                can I still pretend like a poet?

Finding directions in the way that your body moves
when you walk—I was an idiot. I was wandering
the town square like a drunkard
and you were sipping homemade apple wine
in the orchards—I never should have told you.

People used to wait for me, wanting to tell me secrets
they kept under their pillow cases—bedside prayers.
I was watercolor knees
and you were counting freckles; a mouthful of
sunflower seeds.

Newsprint paper hands praying;
I am losing myself until I’m lost again.
The ocean is still the ocean, still sand
rubbing against my soft places; I still keep longing
in my teeth but I am not saltwater
wonder or watercolor knees or

worthwhile. 

Words: 232 / Updated: 31 Dec 2017 / © Copyright

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