Monday, February 9, 2015

Play | She's Art

| Incipiens |

sharpen this pen
coil strummed strings
around my teeth
as white as piano keys,
and play
to a beat
that is my own.

ladies. yes, ladies and gentlemen,
she's losing her hair,
and her eyes,
the color of violet rain.
and she's here
to shed her locks
and cry amuck,
while the grand folk
rattle luscious jewels,
suck on stringy baubles
and quizzically mutter,
she's art.

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