sagging from reality
a piece of smoke
that wildly dances
lips that quake at a coming song
stroking the high wire sparks
dulling a wick's torpedo
repaired in a velvet airplane
families of punctuation
on the chemical map
seams in a stone guarded prairie
bulging through the laughing light
a peeling echo
from the skin that loved and left
the separated births
walking.
No comments:
Post a Comment