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Fly with youIt had been so long, she had forgotten what dancing could do to her. More specifically, she had forgotten what dancing with him did to her.
Breathless, she smirked, stretched her leg and spun, the skirt flaring and flashing against her thighs. When he pulls her back in for a dip, his hands are neutral but his mind is not, and it spills out into the scant inches of humid air that separates them, caresses her lips. Tongue darts out to taste and then, later, as he pulls her in for a quick turn she purrs: You taste good.
He doesnt miss a step.
CaseyHe said, its me or you, and snarled his smile. His final say delivered in
a wooden slam and later, his careful, measured glances
at the reflection in gin and tonics, watery eyes
broken by the refractions as lamplight dipped through frosted glass.
Casey always tasted like poison by the end of the night
slurring his nocturnal rambles at the others rooted to their torn vinyl seats;
Talking of God, of April-pink passions, of bullets and dust, dizzy phrases
ensnaring his arguments into a series of paradoxes
hed wax so eloquent about Rome and civilization, while
fingers twitched and groped without a drink to cradle.
Last Thursday he found himself
waxy and dormant in the dregs of his beer.
Before anyone else could see, he coolly dropped the bottle, watched
his shriveled doppelganger slaughtered by the amber shards.
Then apologized loudly, cursing his incompetency,
sweeping up the remains with a cheap paper towel. His fingers
sliced by the glass before he tosse
[transmissions of a dead girl]i am the
moon: i am
the silver pill
to weigh down
into leaden eyes--
i am the
of the dark.
the stars are
all dead in their
you'll be safe, dear,
as i am the moon,
with all of your
(i am good bye and yet,
you think only of romantic
i am the moon.
i am the crescent
and dead altogether,
i still die.
All Here For A ReasonI turned onto a shady, well-manicured driveway that, for all intents and purposes, looked harmless enough. Maple trees lined both sides of the street, and a parade of Canadian geese marched across the road to a wide duck pond with a flamboyant fountain. There were blooming crepe myrtles and rose-of-sharons, and as I grew closer to my destination, neatly trimmed gardens with neatly trimmed bushes.
I stopped to let the geese pass. They looked at me; one hissed. I honked my horn and moved around them.
At the end of the road sat a collection of grayish buildings and a number of signs directing me to the appropriate parking lot. "Welcome to Ten Creeks Hospital," said one of them. "Please enjoy your stay." I parked in the visitor's lot. Surely I wouldn't be staying.
I was shaking when I got out of my car. I had spent the morning getting high. One foot in front of the other, flip-flop noises, hot sidewalk. Mulberry and magnolia trees, freshly shaved grass. A bench and pan for smokers. A set o
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