The heat becomes intolerable;
an indescript umbrella saturated
with anxieties, breath, blindness.
Open my smashed window,
the spirit releases thus.
Close the missing door,
promise me a trilogy!
The cauldron boils bats,
the kettle boils relaxation.
Empty their scaly preconceptions.
If this be travel,
my book must be
that blackboard shopping list.
An overgrown, white elephant.
I have become tired
in Pandora’s empty box
of forever. It stings
my scarlet eyes, dripping
with your reflection in
her mirror, ornately decorated
with leafy poison ivy.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment