Tuesday, September 10, 2013

Improv 2, Week 3

This needs a lot of work and will probably change before the week is done so excuse the fact that it's so few lines.

We snag a seat in patio dark.
A citronella gleans your face.
Wine bottles push silence.
Nursing every dreg of corked-up booze
you slosh, trembling,
tell me you don't miss her and
I'm leaping eyes across your goatee's
trampoline, recalling its tarp-like feel
that night you kissed my cheek goodbye
with eyes that never pulled from her.
Forgive me
...

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