Wednesday, May 5, 2010

St. Hilary of Arles

you said my cheeks were hydrangeas

and that’s why you wanted me.

I licked my fingers and held them

up to the sun until they burned.

what glistens is mine. this is like that time

when I decided to go. like the time

you found the lilacs of someone else’s

neck. I told myself that bad things happen

to good people. There was nothing left

to do but burst into a morning glory.

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