2.02.2010 @ 7:06:00 PM
Dear Greta
Dear Greta,
you know I wouldn't be able
to write about you,
or to name you for who
you truly are
or to call you for what--
You scratched my car!
You know I wouldn't be able
to sing about the day
I found about you,
or the time you took
the jar from the shelf
just because you can be
You, Greta.
You know I wouldn't be able
to paint his face again,
or trace the outline of his eyes.
You bleached the canvass.
You lied, Greta.
Now how I know
When I wouldn't be able to dance
or unstitch my lids to see,
I count to ten
And then, I'll know
It's you, Greta.
020210 2:10pm
Still working on it.
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