How tender are your lies, how perspicaciously
They thread around my neck in knots, I’ll tie their
Ends to ancient bridges to the recent cracks,
And fall.
Why, how the water glistens: an eyelash
Of a newlywed, and how the stones
Beneath are pained to promise differently,
But don’t.
My talent lies behind the woods and spears
Are pointed to my heart’s each beat
As it would beat itself into a blister
To quit.
|
Submission Name: Cranberries
