i breathe
wrinkling musk
of death
and walls close in
stuck in the snare
that constricts
and contracts
in my window
of obscurity
i am
a cut-paper doll
existing
my bones brittle
as glue dries slowly
limbs fused in blood
of my roots
sap dripping
my bark stripped
to stark nakedness
reaching for light
of a shatterproof existence
i tumble in the black
murmurs of living
beyond the screams
ringing my name
in humility
against sour fumes
of death
i wait
like crusted fossils
of the sea
washed ashore
by tumultuous veiled waves
allowing my salt to dry
along with wounds
i separate wilderness
and refuse
solving words
wisdom and understanding
with indifferent glances
i tremble
with my undress
and a light breeze
settles my resurrection
with filaments falling
upon shut eyes
colored threads lie
under the unsettling moon
in an open pasture
of life
and lambs
Adding your comment:
Sounds like a perfume...LoL
