Arsenic Lobster poetry journal Issue Thirty-three
Winter 2013
Meghan Tutolo

I want you.
I want you with the weight of
small things          so many, though,
they crush bones.

What I’m after
isn’t explosion like you said, but
the grey matter where we met,
stuck in the synapse of our
beige routine.

                                 Do you see me
(hungry animal) waiting
for what’s left? I’m hung
by this push-pin moon, know
I’m all of you
in such a small space.

About Meghan Tutolo

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