why the parcel hands?
that wrap and twist your body
into uniform packages
and giraffe-neck shapes
she would rather sleep with a rifle
her love is a distant colony
of lost letters and never-written
slips of wood-cut and broken ships predicting
sail power to gun powder in seconds
in split seconds of sleep
you are too soft and
your love is too amphetamine
- Liza Cain
- east of eden
- the only strand of communication between brother, sister, companion, lover, hater, observer is a two line telegram.
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