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Personal Note:

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Poem

She decides to float across 
the waves of heat from the towers which have been 
placed to heat the waves of sweating teenagers 
out there in the cold and warmth.
    She drifts heedlessly from night to night 
and from opinions to opinions and follows where the
fun and games go.
  And too often does she find herself 
splayed across the altar of whimsy and
too often does she
taste the breath of unpredictability 
and too often
taste the consequences 
and 
      With stalk eyes, 
gale force winds contained...
    There’s nothing original about noticing the color of eyes-
or comparing them to hurricanes but.
  I can’t help but
      Furrowed red line eyebrows
and I ask to touch her hair 
after my hand is already in it and. 
    She says she looks like a crack whore and
she gave herself tattoos and
pierced her own ears.
 She’s wearing sneakers and a black dress with 
...and it’s open in the back.
I remember how her hips felt, I doubt she remembers my shoulders 
            elastic, tight fabric and bone 
                there isn’t much of her there
and movement
I was too sweaty
she isn’t too warm
her shoulders curve funny
‘i don’t know how to dance either’ 
I suspect she’s lying.

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