golden fingers and poetry

.summer 2010. glamourous dirty work.
(don't ask why i posted this. i just like the color.)

this semester, i'm taking a creative writing class.
be kind...i'm still figuring out how to write even when i don't "feel' like it.

a snow white nativity
and the smell of fresh pine - 
not from the forest,
but a cardboard deceiver.

every action refuting
the truth of "you're mine"
when your words cracklepop
like a broken receiver.

and when nineteen seasons
create a fine line
each word felldown cold
for this blanket believer.

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