If you were a kid, you got a kite
And flew it along the Conodoguinet
In someone's back yard who didn't mind.
The wind took the line, yanking it away from you
Like a willful dog on a leash, til
All that was left
was the pink strand scar on your palm,
And a ripped blue diamond flashing in the sun.
If I dropped it and you did, you would watch a blowing
Handkerchief fall into the ocean and grab it for me.
It could wind up in the Adriatic someday, or between the dead teeth of
A pirate. But it doesn't matter.
Once you touched it you would hold your hand between the waves forever.
So many lines on your hand it would take.
Traumafession:: Dustin in Minnesota on The Soupman (1980) - Greetings traumathusiasts! It’s been a long time since I have posted, but I do try to at least visit the site every week. This place has been great for nam...
3 days ago