Sunday, May 1, 2011

what do  you say  to me
moldering sockets and dusty nails
half toothed  grin and matted hair
bones cracked by picks and  hung
did they take care
wrap you neatly
did mother clean your skin
before it fell from you
nameless under the empire
in the dark a crevice
for your knuckles
and eight legs
for your chin

No comments:

Post a Comment