unthinkably adroit,
swift and skilled upon my back,
across the meat of my palm,
a knife composed of song
severs my tendons
and leaves my twitching frame
spread like a shadow
beneath this unending song.

the apex is upon my throat,
hot, thin needles spilling my
blood into the streets,
painting a scroll with
my slippery gurgles,
joyously slinging my effuse
from branch to branch,
steaming and bright in this fall evening.

eventually i am spent,
my ribs hang from an awning,
teeth litter the grasses,
my spine a ladder from
root to leaf, my heart
entirely consumed by this
song, this light-footed walk
of your voice, your tongue-pressed melody.

10/27/2008

Posted on 10/27/2008
Copyright © 2010 Jeremy Magee