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Literature Text
i don't think you notice me
borrowing your skin like it's paper
and copying the wordless poetry onto it
until you're covered in half-thoughts and
unfulfilled sensations i can only wonder about
in the ceiling clippings that drift down on me like snow
until i can find something that feels of flesh
and reality
in dreams.
disconnected.
i'm leaning on you when you're across the room.
your eyes on me.
our elbows touch on the table.
i feel all those things like sprigs of pine needles,
drying out, dying in my hands, unable to return to
mother-branches.
and even paper
can be cold
and smooth
and unforgiving
when you're sliding down its surface
for lack of purchase, like
marble.
if it never reminds you that it's alive,
that it has thoughts,
that it can want you or not
want you,
how do you know the difference?
how do you remember?
borrowing your skin like it's paper
and copying the wordless poetry onto it
until you're covered in half-thoughts and
unfulfilled sensations i can only wonder about
in the ceiling clippings that drift down on me like snow
until i can find something that feels of flesh
and reality
in dreams.
disconnected.
i'm leaning on you when you're across the room.
your eyes on me.
our elbows touch on the table.
i feel all those things like sprigs of pine needles,
drying out, dying in my hands, unable to return to
mother-branches.
and even paper
can be cold
and smooth
and unforgiving
when you're sliding down its surface
for lack of purchase, like
marble.
if it never reminds you that it's alive,
that it has thoughts,
that it can want you or not
want you,
how do you know the difference?
how do you remember?
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Comments8
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awesome. i love it. xx