The delicate
hollows of her skeleton
exhale an untainted beauty
as this southern cold front
traces ripples onto
spotted wings;
she obeys her fate,
to direct eyes wearied by
the bloodshot of modern monotony
to the perfect imperfection of
scented flowers,
but in the flurry of her anxious
dance
she takes the magic
she possesses, she touches,
for granted.
No comments:
Post a Comment