viernes, 1 de febrero de 2013

born



see it breathe
lingering dew pale morning barely stirring laughter follows trees that answer
scent of grass and pine
ragged running smoke, and wine, and precious scents before sense took hold

see it burn
lungs turning cells to fine white ash
fit to serve
blistering blue-white skin in a near-fatal sunrise
coloured red consumed as it slept
blowing away in an idle breath

see it drown
mist gathered humidity travelled
face muddling ice puddles
precious little snowflakes
hands held together
the still spot in the steam before the splash takes it away

see it burrow
soft black damp creature
clay between tiny fingers
blood returning shallow breath
layered in the moss
beyond all reckoning

watch it bind
metal skin to slip and cauterise
halt the march of turpentine
scrape the canvas clean and grant the muse its wicked way
in its own good time
 You can read more of Mandy's wonderful words here and you can also follow her in twitter here.

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