platforms in the dark. passages through the sun. she wears the light in strands of color. soft bridges sketch her path. in knots of skin.. melting crayons like whispers between lion and sheep. the gentle roar of empty hours and bleeding claws. pictures. manic suicides. the dial. the voracious hum of the time machine. as it devours all thee people we thought we were.
little piglets. in their succulent mud. an earthquake of touch swallows her.
the hours made of glass. translucent and so fragile. the mountain small. the sun frigid. nothing as it seems. it's the end of the world. but the world won't listen.
ugly ducks. beautiful monsters. i search for the difference and fail. the rumor of happiness gives chase.
a thunder of how. a confession of when. her margins are drawn in the red around her thighs. the coax of gravity on her cunt undetermined in power. but definitely strong.
she wakes him. his gentle alarm. the world in itches. not yet scratched. her heart a tumor. a malignant cancer in her head. she waits to die. a dime in the well. heavy with wishes.
the world in zippers. coming undone.
Tuesday
5/01/2012 12:41:00 AM
| Life Poems |