Thursday, 22 April 2010

don't ask me, because i won't remember

It all started huddled in that red...

as I stand unplanned
melodrama demands a scene
the scarf falls apart in my hand
what was once whole explodes, expands,
becomes silk strands
filliaments of fabric, shards of light bite
the carnage of sequins ejected
this perfect sequence, expected,
it frequents my mind on a regular basis
the stasis a consequence of nonsense
memories, that time, terrible and sublime
fingers sticky with childish guilt and grime
the crime: a full-blown mime
of our estate, more a state of mind
of mine
to test weight of judgeful glare
they stare - i tear, bare
behind closed doors and keys and nets
hiss - steam jets
kiss pressure outlets
bloom late, regrets
and outstretch hands mark bets and fetch
marks set deep in the flesh of remembered wrongs

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