I recalled the hologram
Where I knew I'd done dreaming.
Exit wound is trembling, now
A spoon where a knife would do.
I cut into charm with
Surgery of the pedantic, but
The blade spills graves of sugar,
Enough in the tiny hollow
To rot a crystal tooth. Only
Truth can focus this beam:
I know nothing sweeter
Than the velvet crust
Of black milk where
The sun burned breast
Opens at the seam
Swelling for the lunar mind.
***
I should know to step lightly.
If this, now, were more simple, I'd call it insomnia.
But it's more like waiting.
If I wear myself down like seed between stone
What then?
Heavy footfall. Never-leaving peace; place.
Sleep.
*
Where I knew I'd done dreaming.
Exit wound is trembling, now
A spoon where a knife would do.
I cut into charm with
Surgery of the pedantic, but
The blade spills graves of sugar,
Enough in the tiny hollow
To rot a crystal tooth. Only
Truth can focus this beam:
I know nothing sweeter
Than the velvet crust
Of black milk where
The sun burned breast
Opens at the seam
Swelling for the lunar mind.
***
I should know to step lightly.
If this, now, were more simple, I'd call it insomnia.
But it's more like waiting.
If I wear myself down like seed between stone
What then?
Heavy footfall. Never-leaving peace; place.
Sleep.
*
eccentric:
i've been alright...sleep deprived. hate my current day job...and emmotions on on the rise and fall all too often. posted the set in the "hopefulls" forum. i'm not even that obsessed with the idea of being an SG, that was more a wierd whim idea origionally....but now its a chalenge i can't stand to fail at. i'm bad at failing gracefully...my better/and worst traights lie in my determination and competitive nature. thanks for the suggestions on SG writers.
friedbanana:
That first piece is great. I love the imagery of the beginning.