In my hands rest words I couldn’t bring myself to eat
they rose up my throat like a tree roots itself into the ground
I plucked the leaves from my mouth
and wrote my simple query,
“who told me I could not stay?”
“who told me I must go away?
then left them in the air to float
amongst quandaries of maple and oak
wrapping my head in black webbing
and taking off my shoes as a presentiment
and a gesture of compliance
as I wait for the day
Feb 24, 2017
Feb 24, 2017 at 12:08 AM UTC
In my hands rest words I couldn’t bring myself to eat
they rose up my throat like a tree roots itself into the ground
I plucked the leaves from my mouth
and wrote my simple query,
“who told me I could not stay?”
“who told me I must go away?
then left them in the air to float
amongst quandaries of maple and oak
wrapping my head in black webbing
and taking off my shoes as a presentiment
and a gesture of compliance
as I wait for the day