Another day dawns.
Halogen hemisphere,
polishing the grass-blades
until they throw light around like
children.
You emerge.
Dancing across mirrors;
skirt shimmering in the breeze
and the sunlight.
The flowers smile and
you wave at them in
nonchalance; anthropocentric
as you float through their vision:
pretty little stick in a river.
Freeze!
like a photograph while I
tear you to shreds with my eyes,
and crush your heart with my fingertips.
Skies bruise and crack and shatter into
shards of glass that fall to the earth
to eat your skin. You’re naked,
eyes wide like windows.
You’re ugly.
The clouds explode and collapse
to the ground, on top of you.
Silhouettes twitch and fester in the inkiness.
You’re afraid.
Night falls like an ocean
and kidnaps your shadow.
You’re alone.
Whitest flags ripple in the breeze.
Acquiesce! Acquiesce.
Ugly. Alone. Afraid.
Asleep.
...
Another day dawns.
Halogen hemisphere,
sharpening the grass-blades
until they cut apart the feet of
children.
I’ll keep the photographs until
you stand on them,
until we meet again.
