4/19/03

 

my throat is dry with your silence,

                what you won’t say is sticking like

                tape to my tongue

                &the thickness of this tension is too terrible to tolerate

something so pety-sofuckingbullshit-like this

is gonna render me lonesome without you

i’m  in pursuit of passion

or communication:

                                       some sign of recognition reflecting

       in the words that your lips

       are actually forming for once,

       a tiny fraction of feeling

       flowing from your driver side seat.

-anything-

that involves you acknowledging my existence,

                are you gonna talk

                or should i just go?