Saturday, February 26, 2011

Chaste

I wiped the blood off your face
While you told me how
Miserable
We had all been
Apart all this time
The people yelled your name
And we pretended to know
That something more was going to happen
When I fell
Skid across the pavement
I remember counting diamonds
On my skin
Off my skin.
To be chaste
Then let go.

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