and what could i do
to make this body
honest, no dead compass
this skin naked thin
like it was meant for
touching, not holding
all of me together---
what function?
some parts of me
are broken, even red
and if i leave it wanting
like an animal stare
will another meaning
be weathered out,
whittle something
from this wanting
and if i pare it down,
still the humming flutes, tighten
every cord, oh
the angles must be perfect
now, for sound
is a delicate thing
every instrument must sing
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i love your humble ways of going after what the eyes can't reach....and listening to what the ears can't hear.
ReplyDeletei really like this ;*
ReplyDeletePerfect.
ReplyDeletewow--thank you. i really appreciate the kind words.
ReplyDelete