Every Car Passes and I Think It's You

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Every Car Passes and I Think It's You

Johanna M. Vining

every car passes and I think it’s you

is this love or is it

shutupface?

uncertainty following  a mess of nothingness

I like where this is going, but also

where is this going?

sometimes your hand forms a pillar against my skin

that lump on my spine – that formation hovering just beneath the surface

I am both things – lust and that unnamed emotion

a filter at the back of my brain

pressing urgency

muscle tension and the way my eyeballs roll and roll

introductions – this life once lived. This life of yours that I feel I must own

but without that other sense of urgency that follows

hellohellohello take me as I am

and you are,

sew

sough

every time I imagine you moulding your history around my hands

how so, sew, sough

projection called out.

another distant rumble

another call to order

your hands gripping my hips

and this is this is this IS

there is too much to explain and I can’t quite find the words or

remember if you were the one that called me on my inability to speak coherently

my mother called tonight and I spouted this wonder

these words that flew from my mouth concerning you

one ear to the window

one ear to the door

can you hear my heart beating?

beat, beat, beating.

1.24.2014

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