Monday, June 30, 2008


Shoulder blades shine through silk

cold beads break and fall

afternoons pass in a blue acid mist

fine china bone faces glow through the wall.

the house moves a few steps back

and overlooks the river once again

fences fall apart, iron gates rust and die

wooden floors melt in the July rain.

dragonflies fly low dreaming of the dawn

waves rise and fall against their skin

the house has swept the courtyards of secrets

but apple cores dipped in silk scream of their sin.

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