Aside

Goddamn you

I feel sick to my stomach when I see you

I feel sick to my stomach when you leave

you stare at the my dialating pupils

wondering which one is telling the truth

and which one lies as it speaks:

knowing your sides

is memorized rote

and the act of getting by

marres my bones.

oh, the chill

it’s chilly

on the sea of my hands

and it’s warm

on the island;

unbalanced unsurity

and a twinge of doubt–

come again,
and go back out

Copyright 2013 Golden Star Poetry

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Unsurity

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