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  • lggoode


Written April 2014. Inspired by Facebook labels.

She closes shop,

Walks down crowded streets streaming with screaming drunks,

The train door closes, carrying her away from hockey jerseys and stiletto heels,

She could never wear those anyway.

Hydraulic doors

Release her

Into unlit sidewalks.

She’s been here many times before.

It’s raining while

She makes her way

Past subway bums begging for weed money

These faces are close to familiar.

Three knocks and metal gates part.

The place is steaming

Friends who know her by her Facebook name

Embrace and fawn

“It’s been too long”.

Now she moves in a basement, it’s dripping

In electric beats that drown her

Toss and turn and throw and catch her

Crash down and tear her into

A mass of molecules moving through space.

Egyptian eyes and mascara for miles

Swirling hips

Crimson painted lips

Steal her.

She is lost and found and lost and found.

And no one is the wiser.

Pieces of sand and grime

Mix with the wet of spilled wine

Beneath her feet.

Hundreds of naked toes grip

Cold concrete.

She is jumping but not landing,

She is elastic banding,

Tattooed arms and pierced lips,

Almost miss,

Barely touch,

And it’s all feet, and breasts and salty sweat.

Night air kisses her bones,

She is alone,

Almost home,

With rhythm heaving inside her chest.

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