Sunday, April 04, 2010

NaPoWriMo 2010: 4 April

You'll Never Guess What

This story comes from the mouth
of a man fashioned in threads:

I watch his mouth move; a fleck
of spittle tethers his lips

while molecules gel as whorls
in the spaces between us,

their morpheme tentacles merged
and tangled, a kelp swirl

amid the photon shoal, his face
a slattern broadcast -

a guernica of mirrors and futures
alien like sires and stock

and his words? Beyond the shock
of his white wide wet eye

a crash of waves on pebbles
is less empty; and we hug.

1 comment:

  1. 玉龍玉龍 said:


    According to google translate, the above reads:

    "Look at the blog to adjust mood, but also to continue to work, we add Oil"

    I deleted the OP; I'm not keen on spam links. Sorry.