Yeah, I know.
You have a third-class ticket to the afterlife
and the legend bends down for the buss.
Tiptoe to reach him and remember all
those lovely words sent to die in the ether
when he goes or when you go. Tell Turgenev
and Dos to back the fuck up. He's your man,
Sonya and your grip on his short hair
is tighter than comfort would normally allow
but this is no ordinary marriage and after the kiss
I look into your eyes and feel myself desiccate.
The wind takes me east and west but never north
I am air and wind and sun and rain all at once
as I disappear into a wave of butterflies.
Kissing Tolstoy, a Brave Act
Today the trees rustle like people in hell,
every leaf a broad hair on Tolstoy's chin and lip
every leaf a broad hair on Tolstoy's chin and lip
You have a third-class ticket to the afterlife
and the legend bends down for the buss.
Tiptoe to reach him and remember all
those lovely words sent to die in the ether
when he goes or when you go. Tell Turgenev
and Dos to back the fuck up. He's your man,
Sonya and your grip on his short hair
is tighter than comfort would normally allow
but this is no ordinary marriage and after the kiss
I look into your eyes and feel myself desiccate.
The wind takes me east and west but never north
I am air and wind and sun and rain all at once
as I disappear into a wave of butterflies.
I just stumbled upon your blog, and I am thoroughly enjoying reading the poems you've posted here. I look forward to reading even more!
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