It does not remind me
that we are less than immortal.
How you hide
in the folds of a syllable,
is beyond obvious.
That you would alliterate me
with digging, I learn
to welcome.
You articulate the earth
like a voodoo doll -
tracing horizon over my waist.
When has this gone so far?
Glycerin on our hands,
we pretend to come clean
but really, I do not know
who is the more immoral.
My fingertips have only
become a vault
because I could not
sit quietly
as you mocked the stone
with that chandelier face of yours.
Author notes
Friday, June 20, 2008
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Comments
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I agree with grm- there are a lot of yummy lines I wish I had thought of first
Wonderful imagery and flow with a message that rings true every day (for me at least). It's odd how every single thing we do affects us and something else along with it. It just keeps going. The ending was great (I'm a sucker for really dramatic endings 
) Good job 
Jeanette*~
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this is excellent. lots of lines i wish i had thought of first.
absolutely loved the final stanza
...and here i thought that i was the only one with a chandelier face, albeit one that has fallen from the ceiling and smashed into the floor
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Thank you very much!
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