#27

November 21, 2010 § Leave a comment

My world isn’t here
Just my life along a string
And fragments drop lightly as a face changes nightly
Pulling lashes from the eye of the needle

Trails of skin-laced fibers
From leaking linens of lace
Cut knots that bind me and the strings that outlined me
The anchors to this whirlwind

No ties to the ships in these waters
Just a canoe along its waves
But the edge of the boat that stays barely afloat
Tell me this is not your ocean

Ribbon fingers of rainbow colors
Loop around wrists and ankles
Ties that bind me in tints that remind me
That my world isn’t here

I’ve tried weaving ribbons into lattice walls
But busy fingers sew crooked seams
And maps that find me beneath stars that decline me
Tell me we don’t want you here

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You are currently reading #27 at Authored Angioplasty.

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