Sunday, April 18, 2010

whimsy

laced appendages posed to unravel
grips slip, skip steps and stages

this is not a body, it’s a time capsule

submerged, inside it’s only pages
yellowed, scented, tender, tearing,
teasing and jarring, wide-eyed, staring,
blank and uncaring, anxious to hint
but someone is biting my tongue

this is my carbon fingerprint,
graphite powder sighs over silver

strong, distilled spider silk sings along
until white rays graze the surface

no shadows over my shoulder,
my chest is open, my toes are cold

04.10.2010

No comments: