Monday, November 2, 2009

Just Beneath the Skin


Something prickles:
tremor – tickle –
just beneath the skin:

softly presses, spins –
as if it wants to pop
up through – too

frail to do much more
than ineffectually
flutter, spew: one more

new fragile notion
tries to sputter into
view. You hover

underneath the silver
net of an idea of you:
you too would like

to come up and assert.
But that would mean
you’d have to jump

a ship you can’t desert.
Novelties in love
and thinking hurt.







.

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