a small piece of paper

the day was tension
the jasmine was not significant
but it was whimsical
and fragrant
and when she passed it
it made music of her
language dripped from her wrists
as she danced along the sun-dry pavement
she became quicksilver flowing through the streets
enacted upon by a hidden gravity
her step a syncopated tidal movement
she paused to listen
the random could make a destination
of any place with the capacity for speech
she rooted on the corner
of an intersection
claustrophobically empty
drinking in the commuters
undulating against the filth and glitter
so glued to making the most of their hustle
that they dammed out as much as possible
colognes and perfumes
unwashed hair
mothball-wool
fresh-cut apples
and skin
all slurried past her
she open her eye
and connected
with everything


“no sir, i don’t like it” (this isn’t a part of the poem. it is, however, both a reference to Ren and Stimpy and a commentary on my feelings regarding the quality of the piece..).

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About Moly

Average, boring, self-involved human. Twitter: @CultOfCocktails Facebook: facebook.com/MolyTov
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