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redhead insomniac song
 
headlights carve into wet tar
her boots are on my fire escape
landscapes folded up in paint
now she sinks into my bed
now the windows open into light
one thousand taillights in a row
the bridges shuffle together like hands on cards in solitaire
the white eyelid static moving in me again
she tosses me awake again
i am moving toward a heavenly bathroom 
full of steam where she shaves her legs in my dream
i wake up and she's fuzzy with growth but no less beautiful
handprint blood and vaseline
on the sheets we leave our shapes less bold
than the ones on the sidewalks outside
where we race after the flapping tongue of a dog
this is our runway ruined by leaves
and we love it's layout, the black church fences 
falling in the bark of our mutt,
the gardens raped by her incisor teeth chasing squirrels and maybe flowers
who knows if dogs have nightmares
you can tell by the way they twitch on the beaten couches of our love
that they aren't at peace either in this fog inside each brick
the bathroom window sneers with ocean salt
the toothbrush is a maze of lizards
the hair is brain-shaped around the drain
we're happy with the tampons like god's cigarette's around the tub
the blue napkin in the toilet and the sheets, the sheets, 
stained with the blood of our backs,
all the chinks taken out of our spines
the hallways open into an unpainted territory
and i like your attic hung with moss
let's go up where the chimneys try to breed
and outdo the sky, the city on the horizon,
the rickety wooden ladder leading up to 
an interim heaven.  

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