Issuu on Google+


n case I lose my thought I’ll find you in my exasperation An old soul I claim to be Inside it claims me Years before I misplaced myself Shadows, memories of every girl Sifting through my past I follow the color of present But I fall into the abyss of the black and white memories Oversweetened white tea barely knows my troubles Frames with no pictures Dismantled and face down Recollections flooding my eyes Quiet enough to hear no beat of chest I left my heart in an orange seat in Charles de Gaulle, Hood up I cried to myself in the metro I promised a love I had no intention of keeping, Pont Marie was my accomplice. A full of shit 15-year-old version of me…Thoughts like storms, with every woman

lighting up the sky. A girl on my arm A needle’s embrace An exhale of thought Catalyst to my mistake Ginger ale and Swedish Fish Cocaine and her moan Hendrix sees through me Paris makes me miss being alone Fortnight leisures Mid-day calvados Delicate care of your lips In the end I was not your home You stepped out of the painting before it was dry You left me with shadows and cold limbs. I left myself with poems and old buildings 5 a.m. daymares San Pellegrino prepared Running a bath A first drag Submerging Gasping for the present The past is too far away Exhaling for a future even further


ahab’s ghostly limb nathaniel segall

A good day A bad day A day with her A day with myself A day barely worth starting A day waking up to your eyes I look in the mirror The duality of myself no longer exists Ready to try another day full of black and white memories. ps


48 ps march 2012 segall ahab