Friday, Jul. 23, 2004 @ 7:33 pm
Fireweed
Oh the breaking up, tbe blowing of the dandelion head, flying feather umbrellas, seeds, potential energy sent spinning kinetic.
As we walked I pulled up the purple loosestrife. It has to go. Swarms of no-see-ums in my nose, in your mouth.
Why do you like this place? You ask, incredulous.
A coyote laughs, yip yip.
In my head it's over, but the words are bound up in my head. Bound up in green heart-shaped morning glory, mind in the weeds.
We're standing next to the dead hedge in the yard. Dead hedge. Do I have to say it all word by word?
Dead hedge, and you are too, from the inside out. Ashes and alcohol, cinders spill from your ears (not orchids).
I dreamed of a fire that I caused, and I was running from the scene.
Fireweed...
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