What the vicious side saw past thorns
past nothing protecting unsteady skin
a single stone kicked
down & loosing the hands' avalanche
greasy fingers rub against
bottled reaction, bubbling red
this one look, snow-shape wrapped
around something that once
cast breath. So often, I can tell what something is not:
sewing needle
starving joy
mother love or contempt
strapless black bikini
jacket wrapped, goose feathers
a thing part of the original garment.
No comments:
Post a Comment