Eccentric collector, I am,
of the ‘ideal’ in full selection
display the feathers glued
skeletal and framed
yearning hearts
alas, the aching of somber silent stone
Here, glint seen by none
too deep and alone
pretty and pale
the unfeeling pastels
a glamorous paper hue to life
Shelves filled with lost time
dedicated to the idol’s devotion
Keeping here these bits and pieces
knicks and knacks entombed
noose-like round the neck
collector’s core disappears
in mask, in shroud
roots mold and dust shows,
in round glow neglected the backwards task
Collector I am
library of waste, shame, guilt, plague
here, touch the binding
dirt and dreams and all that lies mean
Read me
and tell me what the heart says
this is a burning of heart's dam
Hear the waters flow
ease away the bold
count the bones
I'm old |
Submission Name: Collage of Bones
