Weather

Knew her limbs
they spoke highly
of my touch
We busted up some seats
some toilets, and livers hiding inside the slime
Another piece of
her
is leaking under my tear
all salty
with drugs
and old words
that make me
wish
and twitch
outside in the weather

taken from the book of poetry: The History Of Hate or The Perfectly Misunderstood Mate, on 7/20/05