There are times --like when I told my professor
these marks on my body
were just the last drops of intelligence leaving my rind.
--where girls are women dancing across tickling sunshine,
felt crevices, hills, plains, cliffs of paradise. She and I love to fall
for ideas of people. Without looking twice--every memory isn't crippling
--who I am is just a really big, personal word for someone sitting flat
on a mirror in my mobile home.
--crimson stains/the blades of a metal bird./It's beak dulled by the friction of battle.
It's tail maneuvers/till bent and broken/and the body ruffles
as metallic feathers sway/to the commands of war parasites
There are times I realize lighting is wasted energy,
just cracks and cuts
changing out the insides of words as I see them.
There was a time I thought I knew what storms meant.
My old self knew what to do, just wait
--the crisp clock strikes its coldest hour
as much as the chooser's tick, but the rest of the endless regulation is warmer,
I promise.
Mar 4, 2013
Mar 4, 2013 at 6:05 PM UTC
There are times --like when I told my professor
these marks on my body
were just the last drops of intelligence leaving my rind.
--where girls are women dancing across tickling sunshine,
felt crevices, hills, plains, cliffs of paradise. She and I love to fall
for ideas of people. Without looking twice--every memory isn't crippling
--who I am is just a really big, personal word for someone sitting flat
on a mirror in my mobile home.
--crimson stains/the blades of a metal bird./It's beak dulled by the friction of battle.
It's tail maneuvers/till bent and broken/and the body ruffles
as metallic feathers sway/to the commands of war parasites
There are times I realize lighting is wasted energy,
just cracks and cuts
changing out the insides of words as I see them.
There was a time I thought I knew what storms meant.
My old self knew what to do, just wait
--the crisp clock strikes its coldest hour
as much as the chooser's tick, but the rest of the endless regulation is warmer,
I promise.
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