#ipoem

she pins her hair upward/ if not it falls free and lengths/ itself to the mid of her back/ her skin is a faint brown /light is jealous of/ It throws a tantrum and/ tries to beat her in the open/ she manages to shake it off/ with a smile/ administers a small platoon of teeth – / they line up according to height/ each tall, straight, unwavering/ if grace had legs/ would it move as smoothly/ as hers I wonder/ what does the wind say/ when her hips brushes it/ aside in their conquest of motion/ the sea cannot be emulated really,/ but I contemplate the depth her/ eyes hide and how easily they pull in.

i can’t run away. no, I can. i can. but i’m afraid no one would try to catch me.

you told me to fix my hair so i did comb it even though i don't really use one because i believe that it would still be a mess even if i use one but then you said the strands of my hair are so girlish and that turns you on you ask me about what kind of music i listen to i enumerated some artists but then you said you didn't know all of them and that i probably have a bad taste in music so i sneaked your ipod and started listening to rock music even though that's not really my type of euphoria you see i'd do anything just to make you like me but then you don't see these efforts so i'd just end up looking stupid