Friday, September 19, 2014

There is what is to be said

so many things

I scratch my face

SCAB crumbles
sticks in under my

bite it out with
taste fleshy

chew and mull over


there is what is to be said

I say it

wipe spot of invisible
invisible to my EYES
dot on cheek
rough skin

curling waves
thinning hair

I watch for movement
out my window
from my perch on sill
I see all
pretend nothing is

return to bed

don't forget the light
but I haven't
I never even turned it on

water rushes gurgles
cleans the skin
makes new for further

moon beams light
waves casts beckons

I twist and turn

remove my clothes
bathed in darkening night

I await the morning

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