May 2004 / Volume Five / Issue Two
Casandra Coin
Revisiting Mistakes

She is spread and inviting
a cavernous entry
violent pink, pulsating flesh. 
I will take her
eyes opened or closedĖ  it doesn't matter.
Propped there, she is a thing of wanting and not deserving.
That is our commonality.

You and your gentle hands left me
over four years ago,
but your shadow has remained. 
Dancing in an iolet dress in the sunlight of our bedroom sunset. 
Laughing and shaking your fragile chocolate hair. 
Captivated and in awe of the sound of your laughter,
I try to unmemorize each echo that belongs to us. 

I am left with your ghost
and I fuck desperately to keep it.
I fuck as if my life depends on it.
Every act is the very point of my small existence. 
I fuck
this anger is a stream of useless salt
that could have been our future. 

Turning a blind eye,
I pretend this isnít why I lost you.