Sunday, July 02, 2017



Tired? Yes, I'm tired of two lips,
twenty fingers, & don't know
how many words. Of fragmented
grayish memories.

Worn-out of this old
modest skeleton so chaste
that when it undresses
I won't know if they're the same
bones used while living.

Drained of lacking feelers,
of not having one eye
on each shoulder blade
& an authentic cheerful tail.
Of this degenerate
hypocritical little ass.

But above all,
weary of being with myself
when the dream ends.
Me, with the same nose and legs
like I don't want to wait for the shoal
in my beach complexion,
offering the dew two magnolia breasts,
caressing earth with my caterpillar belly.


  1. don't know if these are indeed the same bones

  2. Me neither. This one just got accepted for publication.


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