Monday, August 13, 2012

The Line Between

We sit in haunted attics
clothed like unfinished flesh.
He could have relied on abstraction,
I could have died on a word.

Feel you in my shoes baby,
walking in the air.

Brace yourself, feet.

Induce the future
persistence of memory,
observe articulation.

Cut through tangled hair!
Light every corner we hide!
What do you want in a three eyed world?

No comments:

Post a Comment