crumbled and rolled

pitter patter goes my heart 07/07/2009

Filed under: readable — paperslightertext @ 1:53 am

the curl turns, the whey curdles,
in a whip
biking over the hurdles
brief- a blip

jump skipped hop
the burnt hair
diluted in pot
tinges the air

and so the stick burns, to the wire,
dismantled, unwound smoke spirals,
heavy with musk- the scent of lament.

guitar tendrils, twisted tendons,
carpal tunnel bump swelling at
that junction of my wrist, before, i’ve said this-

that if you acquit, it does not fit,
the rhymes dissipate in the thick of it.


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