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Driving Me Home
I do not trophy hunt oxygen
or the smell
of you.
Knowing that you have been
around long enough
to watch
my bras wear out;
rigid wires abandoning cups
no longer holding
it in.
Knowing I have met the enemy
and realizing it's me.
It's taking
the enemy home
anyway
and learning to glean
relationship tips from
Ren and Stimpy.
and knowing days stretched out
on the grass peeping
up skirts
of trees
and nights vining
through skin
pressing blooms.
It is to bake my wings in earth
knowing one must run
ignoring blisters
act as wiggly as a five year old
dressed in their Sunday best
and stare into the sun
seeing oneself in Pandora's box
of
continuation
knowing you must love
despite
Pandora's honesty.
And to insist
that I've been thinking of you entirely too much
knowing that mind could never flee heart,
a successful adulterer forever
unscathed.
You knowing my insecurities and haunts
of indifference.
My quest
for home and need of
solitude.
Knowing you play in stories driving
words like Tonka trucks
your laughs like shaken bottles of soda
spurting from sprinklers on summer days.
Knowing I will not make you suck
pillow when you snore.
Knowing I can confess
always tumbling
back into your hands.
Knowing that it is the momentary gasp before
falling together,
the smell of you driving
me home.
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