Wednesday 12/02/2015 12:26:00 AM

the broken door. the locked window. the dismal tether of distance as it trembles and flinches, a tepid villain. a warmer victim.

she travels upward. away from gravity. she pauses at the intersection. to feast on the conflict. to imagine there is a difference. a needle in the eye of the random. a knotted thread at the back of her throat. to prove we have been. or might yet be. to remunerate the frail convictions of meat and skeleton for the empty skins they've discarded.

they say the world ended a long time ago. she remembers. it happened so slowly that no one noticed.

she wears the shadows. all their missing buttons and open zippers. all the particularly beautiful treasons of flesh and bone.

2 comments:
JoeC said...

As I bit off each piece I tasted every word. What a great poem! Cheers!

fancier atoms said...

Thank you! Cheers to you too!



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