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She was never mine. I always shared her.
She didn't know what outside was anymore.
she was just the dry smell of gasoline
The emotion on her face was always the one that she was feeling in her heart
The Abridged Edition: She was to one side, he was to the other, an untested bridge between them
Because, perhaps she was cold
She was a Surrealist Woman, She was like a Figure in a Dream
Just standing there, wearing my boxers, in my driveway. I was watching the stormfront. You were watching me.
Besides the part where she was the only one
She was watching me and I didn’t know it.
it was just as if she held her breath for 82 years
She was an intellectual prostitute, seducing me with profound truisms
She is and was
She was feminine in the most displaced sense I had ever seen, a known quality refracted through stained glass windows.
She was free
Outside the train station she was the only person wearing an Orange raincoat and a look of surprise
She grew a little older, while he was telling her
She didn't write like Emily Dickinson, but she did live in a house overlooking a cemetery, and I guess he thought that was important.
She probably thought your first language was English; your real first language was Joyce
someday, when she will think back upon the time when she was as yet undishonored
Fast-talking career gal who thought she was one of the boys
Her self image was not the force field she imagined it to be
I was throwing around useless proverbs when all she needed was to be held and told that she was beautiful
I'm sorry I was speeding, officer, but I really have to get to the hospital
little pieces of her tragically poetic attempts at being loved that she was startlingly aware of, today
She was so quiet that nobody heard her
She knew what she was doing
She was coming out as he was going in.
She was too beautiful to be human
When that cow would walk it was like she was dancing
She was most amazed by the obvious, like January and the fact that I could not possibly keep her.
"He was a terrible man," she sobbed, between bites of alimony
When she was bad
She was cilantro, jalepeno, habanero. She was the hot plate you must not touch.
She Was 18, It Was Summer
Her innocence fell. She kicked at it some, frowned, and left it there because it was beautiful.
She moved so easily all I could think of was sunlight
She was locked in time
She was inside the music, with her eyes closed
She was the seed of a strange tomorrow
The flowers smiled, but she was gone
She always was all tea and oranges that came all the way from China
He dreamt he was a bulldozer, she dreamt she was alone in an empty bed
Existentialism is that girlfriend who cheated on you. Postmodernism is who she was with.
The House on the Island Where She Was Born
She always was devious in her beauty
I said I was sorry. Then she looked at me.
She was the prettiest, loveliest cat at the ball and she had upon her fine gilded whiskers.
She was pain and pleasure all at once, wrapped up in needles and Ramones T-shirts
I was tired. It was late. She was Russian.
She was cilantro, jalapeño, habanero. She was the hot plate you must not touch.
She was so pleased to learn that she was right
She was like a candle in the wind: unreliable
She was the cutest necromancer I ever did see
The girl didn't know if she was loved until he said yes.
And when she came back she was nobody's wife
A dose of mystery slipped into her cocktail while she was in the ladies' room
She was steady
For a lawyer she was surprisingly like a child. Sometimes.
She was so tall, and I was so in love
she was waylaid by an octopus
He was an ant on an ill-defined mission. She was the trapdoor spider of love.
She had become a mutton for punishment and he was a wolf
He stretched out his arms but she was not there
To a girl who thought she was moving away
She was very beautiful. Y'know?
you never once told her how beautiful she was nor how much you truly loved her
she was once a stealthy ghostship in the fog, now she shines wherever she walks
What the hell was she thinking?
She dreamt she was a bulldozer, she dreamt she was alone in an empty field
She was a committed romantic and an anarcha-feminist. This was hard for her because it meant she couldn't blow up beautiful buildings.
She was thinking of a boy in California who had a couch and a job
Jessica, too tall but still lovely, was not sure she would or should drop the whale
In a quiet grove of pines under a frosty sky, he helped her out of the sack. She wore severe white hospital pajamas and was beautiful.
She was buttery. She was asking for it. She was delicious. Let's all give in.
piano outside in the snow. and she was spinning
When she was new, she rolled around the sky like a black umbrella blown by the wind
All the while he was talking she was thinking what his whiskers would feel like on the back of her neck
The Mist
Season of Mists
Sierra Mist
Alpine Mist
Gentle mist
Ryan in the Mist
Blink, and I will fade away like the mist on the beautiful morning of your birth
Irish Mist
Rydia of Mist
mist (user)
America & Pink Mist: The Nation of Amnesiacs
all about me is the wind and the mist and the scent of the fields
voices (in the mist)
curled (in the mist)
resist (in the mist)
breathe (in the mist)
blood (in the mist)
flow (in the mist)
(in the mist)
shadows (in the mist)
her winter mists concealed the truth
Wraith Pinned To The Mist (And Other Games)
Australian Mist
The Mansion in the Mist
City of Mist
she
The Chair she sat in, like a burnished throne
Still she cried, and still the world pursues
She said
he/she
She Walks in Beauty
(and it wasn’t in my time nor yet in your time: but a very good time it was for all that)
Surah 60 She that is to be Examined
Murder She Wrote
She smiles in colors
She is why God is God.
By the way, she has a penis; just so you know.
English As She Is Spoke
English As She Is Spoke: Useful Words, Part I
English As She Is Spoke: Useful Words, Part II
English As She Is Spoke: Familiar Phrases
English As She Is Spoke: Familiar Dialogues, Part I
English As She Is Spoke: Familiar Dialogues, Part II
English As She Is Spoke: Familiar Dialogues, Part III
She Hangs Brightly
Robert Lionel Fanthorpe fills up the word count in a science fiction novel: she brushed her teeth
English As She Is Spoke: Idiotisms and Proverbs
She breaks hearts almost as often as she breaks the speed of sound
She arose and said matter-of-factly
she turns and smiles, then walks away
She misses me
So then she said
(s)he
She has the biggest cock of any girl I know
I knew she wasn't faking
So happy she drools
She writes notes to me, to keep me in check
She Came In Through The Bathroom Window
God is a she
She said, while hugging a bowl of turnips close to her bosom
I haven't seen her in a month. She is still beautiful.
How clear she shines
She thought about giving him her heart
Is she really going out with him?
what she kisses twice
She ties regrets around her fingers like forget-me-knots
She Is Suffering
she being Brand
The picture she drew in my notebook
A chorus of phones each time she calls
And then, she expressed frustration with life in general
Any woman who thinks she is pro-life should ask herself
She asked me to copy my poem into her notebook
Who am I to critique that which she is?
They walk around her like she is in danger of breaking
She still has my Borges book
He and She
He and she are one
she is not a servant to scattered branches
She sang of fantastic green islands, and sparkling fish, never telling that she haunted the waters
She Sells Sanctuary
She makes my teeth naked
She Sleeps
She is Overheard Singing
Why she stopped crying
She makes sniffing sounds, and I don't know if she's snorting coke or weeping
If she were an insect, she'd be a moth in search of a flame
She leaves a busy emptiness in the room
She does not rustle but her flesh has the moonlit shade of a silver birch
She Fucks Me
She calls him Sugarcane. He calls her Hurricane.
She is not beautiful
She Wanted to Leave
she broke my heart
All right. She can fly circles around Uranus, but where's the bathroom?
She is stupidly keeping herself a secret, when I know she has sparkly things to show me
She opened her eyes and spoke in a very normal voice, just as if she were sane
She who makes the Moon the Moon and, whenever she is full, sets the dogs to howling all night long, and me with them.
She left without saying goodbye
Would you like to penetrate her shell, insinuating yourself among the pages of the books she is reading?
she does not know how much I need this

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