this pathway has been buried;
they’ve poured almost-dried cement
into this tunnel with broken pieces
of my lantern.
shattered china dolls perched
on the wall, their arms were once
perfect, a forty-five degree angle
now she implores you with painted eyes,
hollow shell broken. you lied.
this disarray of splintered porcelain, pair of
once flawless lips,bright red paint falling,
in flakes;
you didn’t catch me.
and i connect these dots to form
the outline of your face, but
i cannot find a burst of wings or
your smile.
3 comments:
mmm. very striking images. and with these to end -- and i connect these dots to form
the outline of your face -- it's quite effective.
This is amazing.
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in the wake of light, your words bring me more(please, do leave your fingerprints behind, so I may relish the image of our hands after you go.)