two roads.A Poem by h d e rushinhaving spent the past week in Chicago I am cruel and a liar. as cruel as the L or prohibition. People have said of my Midwestern scepter; my beeswax wings, that I don't care much about the sun at all. The way strangers wait to peek beneath my miserable dress. But I've been kissed and remember the outward darting of something warm on a mouth that purses like a strangers mouth. For this I need to speak Chinese so as my hanzi clings tight to corresponding symbols. And when I say sex, (when I say I need it), I won't mean you laying on top of me, only that the purest Chryseis had stolen us. Only that I had come to that dangerous part of the dream again: Like moss crowds the road parts of woods. Frost's yellow, diverging, magnificent woods. © 2015 h d e rushinReviews
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Added on August 7, 2015Last Updated on August 7, 2015 |

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