Peculiar is it —
the effect of another set of limbs.
More often than not, take their toll over us.
beyond bodies, hollow
bones, frail
A casual vacancy which soon prevails.
Translucent tethers, often bound
Maps are drawn by the lines of an idle frown.
Rhythmic lullaby hidden behind a tired wheeze
I disappear,
beneath your crown.
What I'm trying to say here is that your
limbs,
they captivate me and hold my body down.
They piece my bones until I'm me again
and
allow my worn out strings
to reach ubiquitous ground.
*(c.b)
Finally publishing & still feels nowhere near perfected or having reached potential