Thursday, January 31, 2008

on the way to my room you walk through a refrigerator
you walk through a graveyard of mice and a ballroom
floor covered in golden ribbons
you punch out the lightbulb in the refrigerator
you make the mice into quiet necklaces and drape
their little gravestones in grey silk
you stir the golden ribbons with your feet
until the uncovered spaces are dancing

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