Sunday 5/30/2010 01:07:00 AM

Pardons in the mortar. Solve for if. The edges of paper dolls dividing skin. I know the clock. And how well it fibs. Paper kites teasing the sun. As if the beginning belongs to us.

The moment comes. The options are chosen. Thsi legacy of flesh is uselesss. Now that these bones are all we are. The stubborn skeletons. Still pulling on. Their empty skins.

I knew. I was. I had been. The ulterior motive. Graves imply. I've scored the stone. And taken the soil. Meant to bury us.

Waiting for gods in thin cocoons. Double-crossing sneezing butterflies. Waiting for the storm.

This cracked shelll giving up the yolk.

0 comments:


| Alcoholic Poet Home |
Copyright 2005-2016. All Rights Reserved.