by Taylor Roberts

Tonight I do not feel a rush to put my clothes back on
The silence drips out of the darkness
Like uneasy ooze through the city wilderness

I look down on
Sunset, I dream, I wake up

You ask me about dolls and I answer like my father

I have memories I cannot unlock
With any spell
Hell is this: an unused muse
(that flower oughta be smelled)

I tried hypnosis
I remembered turning in chiffon curtains as a girl,
My grandfather’s sawmill breakfast,
And leaving you

There are those the rose remembers
Combing through the LA noise, her
Fire engines bawling past my windows
Like teenagers’ fuck-howls

The dancer lays down her left ear giving confession to a pillowcase

It all starts somewhere
A mover without a voice

You sing--
I dress, I dream, I wake up

There is someone on Sunset with a basketball now
Silence lifts
And cars resume their swims east/west across the strip.

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