Wednesday, May 4, 2011



Prism mind, speak me something.
Speak something hard and fast
past this dusty comforter
where my foot dangles, the cobbler's last.

I dip my fingertips into
hot wax candle pools,
let it cast around my nails,
then peel it away when the warmth cools.

I refuse to give myself credit
for such paltry desire
 My flesh sulks in atonement.
“It was just a harmless fire.”

Bewildered suit when will you
mature enough to rip
from each limp seam
until your fabric slips.

The haze of “needs”
amuses my focus
like a cat fondling string
vapid and useless.

I just want my mind.
I will leave my body .

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