Sunday, July 11, 2010

who orbits who

lungs soft as moss
black thread and tired eyes
skin pulled tight across veins and weathered stones
warm mouths breathing softly and separate
bony fingers interlaced and sleeping
sour stomachs, frowns, jagged teeth
fractions and divisions, adding and subtracting
staring boldly then timid
inhaling the stars with raised arms holding nothing and everything
tangled and beautiful and missing and complete
dim light shattering through dense wood
if not now then never
it had to be so it goes on forever

No comments:

Post a Comment