when I see the ledges in your memory
I go pouring over
owls rearranged in liquid metal
staring from the branches of a submerged soul
make no noises in their dreamless landscape
tubs of spirit paint
floating in a larger basin
of spirit water
harbored by a ring
of yearning force field
printed as the replica you wanted
walking out from narrow alleys
into the expanse that eats the enhanced
and leaves the trace of the original
its hooks in heaven
trained by a hellish love
the seam you left in my tenderness
is a scar from above.
No comments:
Post a Comment