I'm reminded why I was slingshot 
through the waterpark of my 
mother's reproductive system. 
Through each and every tube and tunnel, 
wet and wild with fluid and feeling my mothership
doing the lambada with all of her
confusion. And so I knew genetically 
I was wired to master flamenco dancing 
with my lobotomist, and running through
lightening storms wrapped in aluminum 
foil.
Yet any bolt that could pass through 
my bones would never amount 
to the electricity I would feel 
as our hands would first touch.
Monday, October 13, 2008
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