Something_Vague

I.) The Books.

The winter of a lonely Columbus,

I walk with careful dignity knowing

words unravel and the spine of my books

will snap under certain pressure. My baleous

bones bleached calcium and wrought

in milk, my knuckles white with laughter

as the skulls of intent are nowhere, fleeting

as if snow picked up by the wind.


II.) The Painter

She sleeps, without a peep

of insecurity, waking though

her body wades through ancient

seas, their gorgeous depth

glowing gold Ochre and reaching

towards the surface with swallowing

passion. Her limbs go numb into drownt light

and she is digested into the great Mouth

an ugly, writhing Serpent, aqueous and

talented.


III.) Us, Slowly

Colloquial our gestures are lolling

in togetherness we bother eachother,

like heat on the back of an anxious neck,

pining in ululatious velvet, hot from skin.

And through forward movements, our fears

will melt and we will move frictionless

in mutual water, bone dry

& warm.

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allenmarton

very nice posts,i lreally like this forum very much.

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