25 november 2007

twig's wick
a breathing aching pointed thumb
her eye dents on rusted doorknobs
brassy finish to her sunshine skin
the whiteness of air
of seconds,
time,
bring dark shapes to her snapshot mind
and birds prey on her selfless frame
weighing her beads of sweat
and crackle-snaps of berry wine

footprint bruises along glassy blades
of grass
and flesh
red and green arrows,
boldness,
clash with crystal words of morrison,
ibsen, chopin, hooks

then quiet release breaks
her noisy stare