madscenes | Entries tagged with project: wings for arms

he is
the one who
put wings on me
so now I can't
hold

anything
that might be left
to reach for

I cry
with my hands
from the tips of my fingers
which take in the world
like eyes

around my feet
everything becomes
brackish water
in time
with my tear-letting

I am measured
in equal parts
saltiness
and life-source

I would rather die
than wait
the whole year
it takes
for the air to travel
between my mouth
open like a beak
trumpeting
and my lungs
collapsed
around silent emptiness

you say:
if it must all go
to ruin

I say:
I will go
to my death

something foreign lives
inside me
it is a feathered
and winged thing

it flies out of my mouth
when I part my lips
in the morning
to breathe

or to sing

itself
it is a mute thing

my lake is not
my own
it is my mother’s

I return to it
every morning
and stay by it
under the sun

although the sun burns
scorching
my webbed feet
I stay
I stay
rather than to go
look for a lake
that might be

mine
alone

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so many mad scenes

Entries tagged with project: wings for arms

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( #6 )

( #5 )

( #4 )

( #3 )

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