<mcdaniel's "caracas"> 2004-04-27.6:52 p.m. Caracas Jeffrey McDaniel I wish slitting the wrist of the clock would let this moment last forever-- your tongue is so deep in my ear it feels like a paintbrush, coating the dark, peeling walls inside my head with a carmine veneer. I was expecting you to run, when you saw the cartilage in the closet. I was prepared to chase after and whisper you have beautiful footsteps, when the truth is you make my toes tingle like the capital of Venezuela. I know loving me isn�t easy�-the all-night helicopter parties, the glow-in-the-dark haircuts, but when I look at you it�s like praying with my eyes. I know it�s stupid to not own a gun yet have so many triggers, but in some other world gigantic seashells hold humans to their ears and listen to the echo of machines. I apologize for the fossils growing on the dishes, how the rug is covered with cocktail umbrellas when you wake up, but it was raining margaritas, and the stars came on backwards last night. back /& forth /& frosting names are often sad