spinning tails

in spite of myself i pick up the phone and dial
wait long enough to panic
hang-up at the brink of the first ring
full up with words and misdirection
i end up back again
reciting the lines
dressed naked as desire
about the cold strain of fingerprints
the stain of the rapidly setting sun
unbent truths
misplaced

he says
your worst quality is your ineptitude—your ability to see the good in everyone and everything

he says
you need to learn how to leave things out—you’re way too fucking honest—try some editing for fuck’s sake

probably right anyway