So un-asleep, the sheet’s
a beach of footprints
waiting for the tide.
Her shape question-marked,
crucified, an inquisition
scales her eyes.
Wincing at infinities,
she stares a spot
and picks at it.
Each star a *****
a javelin
thrown across the centuries
makes waves
just deep enough to swim
before light breaks
her open skin.
Feb 20, 2025
Feb 20, 2025 at 5:16 AM UTC
So un-asleep, the sheet’s
a beach of footprints
waiting for the tide.
Her shape question-marked,
crucified, an inquisition
scales her eyes.
Wincing at infinities,
she stares a spot
and picks at it.
Each star a *****
a javelin
thrown across the centuries
makes waves
just deep enough to swim
before light breaks
her open skin.