Sunday, September 13, 2015

not how you wanted it to be

Photo by Kyla

a poet is someone
who juggles her own eyeballs
one up one down
and around the back
all while shards of the day
pierce her gut at random

later she removes
the shards so
the wounds bleed
dark clots of words
catching up
her eyeballs
she fingerpaints
blind messages
idly circling
the crystal rim of time
til it sings.

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