canvas and contraband. in folds thin with accusation. soft is the equilibrium between purpose and intent. her eyes in her hands. her search guilty of choosing results over relevance.
it's chemistry. solvents separating the chains. grey barns swimming in red paint. still colorless.
it's learning. the zipper will stick. and the dress will tear. a long series of paper skins for the years to sketch upon. flurries and blizzards. all the same. crucial knots in the threads that create more holes than they mend.
it's loud like the division of the atom. superlative. final. this long hopscotch of flesh. and the stones i throw at it. boxes and char. crippled rabbits. seducing the win.
the bodies on the sidewalk. confident it will rain again. teach us of this shallow hunger. that sees us. even through the din of dirty windows.
Thursday
2/10/2011 12:26:00 AM
Sad Labels:
frailties
| Life Poems |