Trystan Chenille (![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} chenille) wrote,@ 2009-07-30 01:16:00 |
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and I can't count where to find it.
Abysmal, infinite,
all appropriations were delivered
(and can be accredited, I assume)
TELL ME WHY YOU NEVER ANSWERED ME
TELL ME WHYYOU NEVER ANSWERED ME
TELL ME WHYOU NEVER ANSWERME
TELL ME, WHY -- OH, NEVER
ANSWER
[worm]
ME.
There were dreams of snow subdivided, subarctic. In this fascination with contrary living conditions, are there places I can coincide, cohabit, contradict?
I'm familiar with the white fog -- with white crystallization falling from sky to skin, thoughtless to fingertip to credit to cash to canal to caustic addiction and tainting. And still it watches me, escapes my mouth -- laughs, when I've fallen sublime to resignation.
You CANNOT have this.
Yet,
WHO ARE YOU
to say?
Perhaps you are not happy with your own height,
(but three inches is a perfectly good height, indeed)
And I've fallen --
three inches down and six inches up.
A girl
came to me once more two nights past,
and still could not answer my simplest of things.