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  E. V. Noechel
Criminal Intent
After a few glasses of bloodblack wine I find myself
thinking of your words, running
Through them like a song that wonít vacate
Or trying to catch milk with my fingers, dreams
That slide into the cracks, even when
I wake up remembering
There were people named Likes-to-Touch-Elbows
And Small-Thing-Must-Amuse-Me
Dreams of rich and deadly smoke, sitting
At a table listening to SBI
Stories in a fern bar, a chain
Restaurant and a stranger trying
To impress me with death and unanswered questions
While my lips grow shadowred
Between his words and slick smiles
You twist through my mind. In dreams, I believe
That you are more than a knot in the thread.
I can trick you with slight of hand, love me
Though, and believe.
Suspect, I donít know
The dark corners you hide in, dust sprinkled or pine sol
Haze, a poisonous clean. Across from me
He looks into my eyes like high school
Permanent records, and still doesnít see
You. Fugitive love, on the lam from
My heart, you stole cars and nights
With equal aplomb.
I promise not to fink.
I am your punk, your bitch
And the bars taste sweet
When youíre behind me.


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