cartwheel: 8

I always remembered to clean up
I am a curved piece of glass
I am a most pleasant dream
I am a price
I am a saltshaker
I am a torn playing card
I am a whirly gig
I am afraid of dying
I am afraid of you
I am all water
I am an anvil
I am an expert in doorways and windows
I am entirely capable
I am just going outside and may be some time
I am measure beyond measure
I am noctilucent
I am willing
I asked for one thing
I asked you over and over
I can’t I can’t I can’t I can’t I can’t I can’t I can’t
I carry in both arms
I continue the conversation
I did nothing wrong
I did something wrong
I didn’t say that
I don’t know
I don’t sleep well with others
I fucking dare you
I get to know most things
I go missing
I have lost everything but this
I inspire the most horrible
I know how to read my palm
I let fly trestles
I like the weapon
I love by proxy
I make you sweat
I morph under pressure
I mourn white space
I promise
I pull myself together in pieces
I put my clasped hands into fire
I put my shoes on there
I rub your words between my fingers
I say these things like they mean something
I say water
I say you are honest
I show you my jaw
I spy through my little eye
I talk to emulsions
I turn my head away
I twirl the rolodex of me
I wanted to know what you wanted
I was carrying it
I was mad at you, uncertain
I was so careful
I was the woman at the well
I waste no time
I wave to you from lake beds
I will not promise to be okay
I wish my life didn’t have a soundtrack
I won’t say
I would do anything to fix this
I would rather die
I write a word to stop a truck
I yearn for nothing


One response to “cartwheel: 8

  1. Pingback: Tweets that mention cartwheel: 8 « notes from a cartwheel --

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