Thursday, March 29, 2018

Rain dagger and silent drift
napkin hearts shrinking plastic balls
into the eyes,
where they hum with broken air,
dangling spider threads
across a shielded forehead.

Pursed mouths printed on a clay wall,
fizzing arms with hollow veins,
a well of crayon saints
crawling ropes of steel
into a grey sun.

Whirlpools of green food dye
behind the ceiling fans,
clicking tongues in an empty room,
the rubber violins of a tied-up body
grinding grain into oxygen.

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