Archives for posts with tag: questions

 

#1

I let you cut me

once too often with your blunt

indifferent knives

 

#2

I let you undo

me as easily as a

newly stitched zipper

Advertisements

all the worst things are

right there inside you, you are

made of water and oil

the tide

that drags

me

down,

you spit me

out upside

round,

you haul

and pull

and push

me in,

and then

you let me

spin

the moon swallowed by

the dragon maw of cloud you

closed your eyes and sank

no stars only the

bright moon through fast flying rags

of cloud and dark sky

there are

some small

brown winged

moths

in this

collection –

seen in

the right

light –

their

Mottled wings

hold a

certain

Incandescence-

an

internal glow-

heavier

than the

ornate

gilded

frames they

have been

placed

pinned

and

hung in.

 

I wake

at 6 am

eyelids

gut

hands

fluttering.

I remember

Now

that your

voice

sounded

as flat

and

Pinned

as the

gold framed

moths

i once

hung

on our

hallway wall.

You are:

eerie

resounding

sound,

real unreal.

Dusk and

full shadow,

seen unseen.

A suddenly

certain

uncertainty.

The ghost

in

my head.

 

she

loses

misplaces

finds

invents.

all

her

words.

they

were

buried

somewhere

beneath

this

clumsy

shedding

of

her

skin.

beneath

this

in

sis

tent

pulse.

beneath

this

et

er

nal

eve

rlas

ting

din.

for a time

i thought

that

i could

contain

myself,

saw success in

a neat

magical binding

with chain

and

with lock

and  with cage.

 i

took this cage.

Submerged it.

Plunged it into

water

and depth

and darkness…

Turns

out that

I am

an escape artist,

a Houdini like

tendency

for unpicking

dissembling

the knots

 allononelongbreath

roomfornomorenow

rising

from

the supposed

dead.

%d bloggers like this: