A microscopic home.

this is a literary blog. i'm literate so i must have something to say. hopefully.

Wednesday, October 26, 2005


pucker your lips in lotus
grind to pulp tender leaves whose
frailty is concealed in the clench of your jaw

puncture your tongue,
return to another semi conscious statement
temper your murmurs
to fall in time with mine.

these exploits
punish me.

in your condition
you can only fondle fallacies

though their finiteness
is a construction
of your own.

you wail

just like the sky in winter
with the priority of
expiating like
sins would just flee on request
into the poplars.

and disappear.

I will disappear for you
into the quiet distance of

seizure and curl into
the shape of a child,
twice removed.


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