1.03.2010

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Angels sitting
on a newel post
as if like
a portable cyclotron

Confidence
slides away
like something slippery
like Flipper

Psychologists
must remain indifferent
There is an appearance
beyond Youth

entirely awry yet defining
forms of sincerity
Trifling ladies
grow annoyed by my whistling

Somewhere love swells
Each handwritten letter
is a form of breathing
The walls are as bare

as my body
like an empty snail-shell
I close the blinds
and listen to my heart

beating, seemingly
mustering the energy to
come right out of my chest,
turns into a chrysalis in the open air




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