The Most Selfish Cowboy in Kansas

Even though I probably saw only the things I think I wanted, still I’d swear they all were there – soft and sweetly flaunted. There’s an Okkervil River album I should really listen to – at least the title telling me to think nothing of you, a passing object in a mirror that doesn’t need a second glance. I never felt a thing, I think, not curves or lips or hands but only mummies made in Egypt under watchful pharoah eyes, with the gentle smell of cotton musk that led to my demise, and heartbeats in the evening that went faster than straight time.

I’d rather have read you in a magazine, seen you as an extra in a movie scene. If that were the case, I’d stare at the screen and watch you whenever I felt anything like this awful displacement,  why did we meet? These rhymes are misshapen, come back to me.

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~ by perfectionatrix on March 15, 2010.

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