Tuesday, March 03, 2009

The shuttle

I grew, and my blind skeleton grew with me, out of the small pajamas.
I was blind to my skeleton's loom as he weaved his way out of the small pajamas.
I was blind to the quick of the shuttle, but I grew quick to the dead of his bones.
I was cut to the quick when I passed my thread through the dead of my skeleton's eyes.

I had to take the shuttle. I had to follow my skeleton right as he left.
I came through the warp and I followed the weft, and I saw the loom of the land.
When lastly I came to the thinnest strand, he turned to thank me for my mother's milk.
There he put on his new pajamas, and he filled his pockets with stones.

0 Comments:

Post a Comment

<< Home