Great spirits have always found violent opposition from mediocrities. The latter cannot understand it when a man does not thoughtlessly submit to hereditary prejudices but honestly and courageously uses his intelligence. - Albert Einstein

Drained of Blood, The Heart is White

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On Greenspring Avenue, a block from sharp shooters and home invasions when the coast is clear, here lies the rest of the life you left behind. My soulmate says that humans are like animals; unable to be enamored over one thing at a time, and willing to fuck whomever gives the right side-eye. Nothing is forever, obviously- it is after sunset, and Shabbat has began. An ersatz veil of pastel gold seeps behind the shadow of you. Under the streetlamp, you recite the ritual of kosher living from Friday night to Sunday, lying together in silence under the oasis of chill, his grandmothers faulty hips glue her to the couch reading an old magazine she knows the ending to, in fear of using the elevator to generate electricity. We egress smoke and anger over the existence of time, I tell you I wish I could meet you after the next thunderstorm, across a field of cordgrass; my eyes alight and burn a path towards you. at least that's how it feels. I pretend to look away as you pocket a piece of trash, I didn't know would later contribute to your memory board- a paper parking pass pinned next to rello guts. We greet each other by forcefully molding our mouths into one another, the only person who can make me feel lonely in a room full of people. In the middle, a half beating heart is being sucked white imparting gradually the bulk of my love. You wont find were its from.

© Madison M. Taylor


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