I live in a place where
my thoughts leap up from the page
tinted in hints, tendrils of physical ellipses
The items collect, the dust is neglected, the detritus rejected
by my hand
that recoils
To whom do I utter the thoughts I now keep
that I guard
untenderly
tended
Would that my courage could find its sticking point
somewhere other than in
my heart
in its finest, most curdlingly fearful, yet pained, locales
Word to the weary and-yet-unwise;
do not put off doing today what you will not yet avoid
in a tomorrow that will come
Like the dog's muzzled nudges,
the curtains pulled asunder
the muttered confusion
that grows into a clarion call of clarity
from the child-into-man
And in the betweens,
sleep
and do not dare peep at the drifts
of clothes
and assorted scattered matter
do not let its existence collect
inside of a viewed tense
Rather,
sleep
with both lids
clamped
until the rigid brows, bowed,
become softened by time,
and relax into their lines of closure
naturally.






You are amazing. Gorgeous.
Posted by: Kyla | November 08, 2008 at 08:55 AM
Beautiful
Posted by: Cat | November 10, 2008 at 10:02 AM