Friday, November 21, 2014

A Beautiful Disaster

are a beautiful disaster
beautiful disaster
I watch you through the window as you lift your cigarette to your mouth
something poetic 
in the way your broken fingers hold the cigarette
and it takes me a minute to realize
you're not talking to yourself
you're having a conversation with the spider who lives on your porch
the same way I talk to the spiders in my apartment
as I'm trying to escort them out the door

you don't see you're the only one who sees the caved in cheekbone where one fist too many made impact
because I only see the tired in your eyes as you take the last drag, stretch it out into two inhalations
before you come back inside
close the door
tilt your head to the side like an inquisitive puppy
your sad eyes echoing your voice as you ask me what it is I'm looking at

you are a beautiful disaster
and it breaks my heart
to watch you as your broken fingers
lift another cigarette 
ten minutes later
to the mouth I used to want on me

those broken fingers have held my own fingers between them

stroked smooth along my back

rubbed deep into my neck and shoulders as I tried to keep the whimpers muffled by the pillow

have pushed my hair behind my ear 

your beauty is your scars
and how you don't let them wear you

and I'm watching the end of something out that window
because disasters pass
and beauty
lasts eternal

so join me here
and we'll look back
at broken fingers
caved in cheekbones
and see nothing
but the strength
lion pride
that came out of it

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