Wednesday, September 28, 2011

Speaking of Serial Killers

One day I'm going to jump out the window to impress you
and wipe that grin off your face.
I will fake my death and haunt the back of your truck
until you notice me - staring.
I am drawing a map of the scar on your elbow.
I am knitting you a red hat so you'll stick out in a crowd.
I am marrying my eyes to the square of skin
described beneath your cheekbone.
Your village grin. Your yellow eye.
I dance like a heathen in your indifference.
I will tape the purple crescents of your bitten fingernails
onto the spines of library books, and wrap myself
in the drum skin of your voice until
I am drowning in your cleverness.
I will hold a knife to your warm neck and say
it's you or me buddy
Because I have several thousand heart attacks every time I see you
and there are only so many windows to jump out of.

Creepiness, I am a creepy creep creeping around creepily.


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