Oh My Love
you are the fun house mirror
the obsession with innumerable distortions
you are worth your weight in quicksand
the futility of whirlwinds throwing up a dust screen
filling the lungs with a vacuum of screams
(oh my love)
you are the deep heat surfacing with
the swish scratch of heavy bargain priced polyester straight leg slacks and
you are the dank slippery recesses of the fault line
splitting your heart into unnamable land forms
of fine ash and embers, of purposeful destruction
you are the dark excess of a scattered mind
and nobody loves you like I do
(oh my love)
you are all torn away layers
like thick drawing paper, smeared, erased and
in full opposition to the outstretched offering --
a clean sheet.
No comments:
Post a Comment