The Trap
Pennies shine-
little tokens of sun.
Streets invite me,
I say no, pretty day
to grace your granite
sidewalks as the petals do
that is my wish,
to step out of my room.
but I am not allowed to move
some old latch is at my ankles
around my stomache, at my throat.
To move is to tear and rip.
I must be still until I shrink enough
to slip out of the trap.
little tokens of sun.
Streets invite me,
I say no, pretty day
to grace your granite
sidewalks as the petals do
that is my wish,
to step out of my room.
but I am not allowed to move
some old latch is at my ankles
around my stomache, at my throat.
To move is to tear and rip.
I must be still until I shrink enough
to slip out of the trap.
posted by emit's calendar at 11:16 AM
1 Comments:
I hear the soft deep subtle rasp of you and love it. you'll come out tonight, or I'll grasp you clutching to those warped and angry vines and grab your arms and once in the sun your fingers will move and bloom with daisies.
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