Sunday, May 11

(i moved in a sick way
tornadoes a sick sway
all cooked under black clay)

i dreamt it again.
these instruments pushed
something up to the clouds.
it my body, i was naked and
pained; i was still asleep, dreaming of
it again.

"arrange a sin, sit me in."

1 comment:

jbails said...

I love this. It reminds me of Sylvia Plath. Beautiful imagery.