t in self, in the comfortable void
behind eyelids. The firework bursts
of color, the changes as quick as air.
The cat's water fountain doubles,
triples in volume; hands roam over
belly, breast, collarbone
living all the textures allowed—
aloud. Fine hair, jagged fingers,
stretch marks, raised scars, cold touch.
he currents wash over. Keep eyes closed
in this moment, all to myself.
All I have. All I can.
3/5/10
No comments:
Post a Comment