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meekkeenPoems
The woman in the waiting room In disembodied space, She dug a hole, Pale, And fell into it. She digs holes and dances ‘round them. She dug a hole and danced around it. (She… …She… She uses gendered language) In the next room they try to fill holes by digging them. She tells them this is backwards. You will just make a larger hole. In the farthest room someone sits across from you, telling you how to feel. But all things become lost in the hole All things but the pale Underside of a leaf floating atop an unnatural calm Wind Or water And the pale face Standing atop the bridge Drinking in the cold, dark, space reserved for the unborn. She cannot enter it; The hole will not go deep enough This time.
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Dec 10, 2015
Dec 10, 2015 at 10:55 PM UTC
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The woman in the waiting room In disembodied space, She dug a hole, Pale, And fell into it. She digs holes and dances ‘round them. She dug a hole and danced around it. (She… …She… She uses gendered language) In the next room they try to fill holes by digging them. She tells them this is backwards. You will just make a larger hole. In the farthest room someone sits across from you, telling you how to feel. But all things become lost in the hole All things but the pale Underside of a leaf floating atop an unnatural calm Wind Or water And the pale face Standing atop the bridge Drinking in the cold, dark, space reserved for the unborn. She cannot enter it; The hole will not go deep enough This time.
meekkeen
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meekkeen
Dec 10, 2015
Dec 10, 2015 at 10:55 PM UTC
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