Tag Archives: Trista Mateer

taxi cab confessions

It is always just before you close the trunk and reach for the door, that I find the right words—and then swallow them. We’re all moving around like clock hands and I have no business asking anyone to stand still … Continue reading

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Lover—

Should ever we meet on your side of the telephone, I would dive into you like a bomb shelter. You are the only thing I want to run towards instead of away from. I am sorry I keep leaving makeup … Continue reading

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Oh.

You taste like a 1979 Shiraz. You taste like the Berlin Wall coming down. You taste like a powder keg and honey, all I want to do is set you off. You remind me of fir trees in the winter … Continue reading

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Keep Me Soft

You keep finding new ways to keep me soft. You have hands like tissue paper stretched across a cliff face. When you touch me, I feel like a mountain. I feel like a valley. I feel like there ain’t no … Continue reading

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Jet Lag

You kiss boys like you practised on juice boxes, always reaching for one last drop. You kiss girls like you really believe slow and steady is the way to win a race. You don’t kiss your family anymore, not even … Continue reading

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