Friday, December 10, 2010

St. Eulalia of Merida (patron of runaways)



I am alone

in this country.


I know what it means

to lie beside a highway

on a rolled up pair of jeans


and watch my suitcase

rattle as the cars pass by.


instead of pulling over

in a maroon Buick,

you appeared between

the wheat.


you asked if I wanted

to go home. you put

one hand under my chin

and brought my teeth

so close to your lips.


I couldn’t begin

to look at you.




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