there's a fire blooming
lotus burning
deep-seated feather brush
between this flesh and that flesh
a thin line of ink drawn up my spine that
splatters and does not extinguish
coats the ribs with a sweet kind of coolant
fading to blue, red
dipping into my stomach to settle there and turn
circles, rolling straight up my neck into a
sigh
Oct 14, 2012
Oct 14, 2012 at 3:52 PM UTC
there's a fire blooming
lotus burning
deep-seated feather brush
between this flesh and that flesh
a thin line of ink drawn up my spine that
splatters and does not extinguish
coats the ribs with a sweet kind of coolant
fading to blue, red
dipping into my stomach to settle there and turn
circles, rolling straight up my neck into a
sigh
(c) Brooke Otto
