These histories embedded
Before our bodies ever tangled
now it's mangled
these tongues
once searching one another
now just stuck on words
like flies to webs

Your face in all my photographs
Your smile at every mile-stone
I've thrown
Or skipped
(or secretly kept...

...in a box under a bed for its charm)
I am harmed,
I am shaken
Why do I miss who I don't want around?

Our histories embedded
In this -rising dust pathed dirt road- life
I am barefoot you are calloused
I am aimless you are shade
you won't fade
wanna trade
and let me leave to relieve... us

I will turn
we will burn
these leaves we've always jumped in whilst hands held
yours large / mine dry...

...For you I'd cry, if it meant an unforgettable goodbye

ms. murdock,
this is awesome, your collection should one ever appear, would never acquire dust, here at least.
your words flow like mine never will, mine are rocky like mountains but the river emanating from your thoughts is always perfect, full of yearning, sad and hopeful, like we all are in this rising dust pathed dirt-road life.
john.

I've been probably reading your stuff for six years now? Something to that affect. This is one of your most beautiful. Cherish it.

loved it!! I havent stopped by to read or post in awhile, but I really liked this one.
"Why do I miss who I don't want around?" this line is so soo soooo true.

I steal a line from you.
Hope youre smiling!

So bittersweet; when we finally get those asshole types out of our lives we can only think of them for years to follow...out of habit I'm sure...but nonetheless it is maddening. Loved this piece...the topic hits so close to home.