cape vincent,
barefoot in the shallows of ontario,
the bordering skyline is so reminescent of the flowered drapery in your kitchen,
the tree tops resembling the wrinkles of your oak dining table,
home, almost.
our car rolls slowly on a hill,
steering wheel turned to a radius that suggests its fleeting instinct to return us to our houses,
instead it nestles between two pine trees,
it drinks the sap and leaves us be.
leaves us to trace the remnants of our ancestry to the evaporating blue we're standing in,
leaves us to drink the steam from the curator's teeth outside of this infinite museum,
leaves us to fuc.k and be free wherever we so please.
well, i want to see you underwater,
i want to see you inside out,
i want to see you naked in the great lakes,
i want to see you swimming swiftly in the falls that lull us to dreams,
here in ontario,
here in
ontario where my engine won't turn over and
our tent won't fold out correctly. here in ontario where we
dropped our only lighter in the water and forgot our cigarettes,
here where you keep the secrets of the moon tucked into your womb,
here in ontario where i see you underwater for the first time.
Last edited by rushmore at Dec 3, 2009,
Still the series continues with that same soft-spoken power of yours. You know what I think, sugar.