Tuned Taut

October 22nd, 2014 § 0 comments

Hips tick to the kickdrum

Body laced, tuned taut.

It’s a tight rhythm of

perfection.

 

I have seen people

take their own lives

Before dinner parties, or

Eye knives on honeymoon.

 

There has never been a day

where we’ve rolled outside

Never to relish

luxuriate

sprawl

 

What can be measured in frozen peas

or cut out of magazines?

A container. To contain. Tame.

Prune. Pick. Paralyze.

 

This is what we starve for:

A “stay there,

forever.”

 

 

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