My fingers pluck the strings
Of willow wood mandolin
Upon my knee it sits
The wood of willow
As smooth as a feather pillow
Atop my knee sits
In steady posture
In my heart of hearts
There tears a lonely hollow
My voice shrieks shallow
The willow wood mandolin
Shatters into splinters
Splinters pierce my skin
Filling through my body
From my heart of hearts
A willow chisel carves
Away the organs
That flow and break
From my eyes
Bleed wood chips
My tongue drools
Sawdust
A girl no more sits
Under this willow
But a wood sculpture
Of steady posture
Dec 5, 2012
Dec 5, 2012 at 7:32 PM UTC
My fingers pluck the strings
Of willow wood mandolin
Upon my knee it sits
The wood of willow
As smooth as a feather pillow
Atop my knee sits
In steady posture
In my heart of hearts
There tears a lonely hollow
My voice shrieks shallow
The willow wood mandolin
Shatters into splinters
Splinters pierce my skin
Filling through my body
From my heart of hearts
A willow chisel carves
Away the organs
That flow and break
From my eyes
Bleed wood chips
My tongue drools
Sawdust
A girl no more sits
Under this willow
But a wood sculpture
Of steady posture
