Rose White Rose Red (for s and r)

i was rose white twice
both times rose red was black haired
much more beautiful than i

rose 1. painted lilies
emerging from the dark like candles
we ate sushi in the shapes of flowers
she studied medicine, got all a's
her smooth eyelids
her runner's thighs
her feral grin
i was so young and scared
there was nothing to fear
she might have saved me
if i'd let her

rose red 2. was a poet and musician
we giggled on her bed in her tiny house
way up in the canyon
wearing only bras
we were always dressed in see-through shirts those days
dancing together
to 80's songs in our own small dark club as if no one else was there
attending shows of neon lights and electronic sounds
galleries filled with art i didn't understand
i was always hot it seemed
we were always sweating
trying to cool the back of our hair-strewn necks
in the night air

i should have kissed rose red both times
instead i lost myself
to the devouring


  • Ashley Elizabeth Wednesday, 12 September 2012

    Clementine was young, vibrant, and vulnerable ...

    Clementine was young, vibrant, and vulnerable yet apparently, replaceable but one night she decided to make her world technicolor Sweet and plump nothing ever phased her until they phased her out but still she waited, brilliant and cold capable of holding her own But eventually, her world turned winter white an ice queen, waiting, and then the snow began to fall snowing every day till there was no technicolor left But still Clementine danced under the falling dust, she lay in the powder and watched the snowflakes fall, kissing her forehead, nose, and cheeks later that night, she stared out the frosted windowpanes, waiting The next day roses appeared and everyday after that a blanket of thorns, a vision of red pure and seductive, she realized someone noticed someone else was watching and waiting, too.

  • Exitonpch Thursday, 06 September 2012

    Embarcadero That time, missing the last BART trai...

    EmbarcaderoThat time, missing the last BART train leavingme in the Embarcadero at night, no cab fare:tire treads grew speakers, every window meltedinto a speeding mirror, and footsteps are never Swiss in the dark.Even with slit eyesI wasn't the brave cat, I didn't have fangsor a cape and my Doc Marten's were half a size too big to slink with stealth.Shades and voices grewinversely to my bellyor somewhere lowerand I was too indecisiveshould I stay standing beneath the streetlamp or scamper into a dark doorwaybefore they came into view:spiked hair, four knee high boots, leather motorcycle jackets,stepping into the light beneath the lamplaughing at something I didn't make outand then, stopping, twogirls with shining eyes, the shorter onecasually looping her arm round the other's waistand inclining her face, kissingas though nothing else matterednot the pending bus ride across the bay bridgeor the skinny geek, or other throats echoing, or the cadenceof passing cars thump-thumping down the street,not harsh yellow light or sharp long shadowsor tomorrow or yesterday or the tangy salty smellbarreling down Market - nothing intrudedand suddenly the dark felt warmer,though I didn't step closerthey made the night feel safe.

  • Aurora Thursday, 06 September 2012

    father, you wreathed me in a crown of fiber optic ...

    father, you wreathed me in a crown of fiber optic cables a light transfusion tying me to your chariot with data packets i became a part of your myth, a part of your landyou wanted me to overcome my anxious wayof cowering at the darkness pressing at the windowswhispering to be let in you commissioned a special gownwith sleeves of coaxial cableto let dawn walk into the close nightsent my rosy fingers to tap out beatsand display my light in rooms decorated with concrete and sweat and promisepromise of human touch promise of escape from another night tangled in the sheets alonewhen it was time for me to push the sun into the skyi watched them leave glistening in sweat, stumbling, smilingsmeared makeup accentuating their every fear, their every flawi returned to you, jealous of the night(sorry i took so many days off!)

  • SM Wednesday, 05 September 2012

    genderless, we become lying together like fallen b...

    genderless, we becomelying together like fallen branches who insiston blossoming still, somehowmore beautiful here, in our tangle of blissthan we were when we rose and roseand rose alonegenderless, we arehigh pitches, low growls - all of ecstasyexpandinggenderless, we'll bemusical notes, swirling -- the way thoughts do when they stop,and become something elsein a kiss

  • Imogen Wednesday, 05 September 2012

    What I would say to you if I had your number 3 In...

    What I would say to you if I had your number 3In your dark, I would whisperthe words ravishment,abandon,and abandoned to the ravishing darkswallow the words you whisper.Of your song I wouldmake a child,my belly swelling,growing,abandoning myself to her,to the song,my heart-drum-beather first dance.I will swallow your song,transformed intoa girl,with the blue eyes all my fathers childrenshare, with longfingers like thosethat tangle in my hair,her eyes singing backto youthe things my poemscan't quite say.

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