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truce
by Katie Dean
I can feel my liver quaking in my
belly. my fingertips are icy. my jaw
clicks when I yawn.
I cross my arms, uncross my legs cock
my head and glaze my eyes
at a record dismantled on the floor.
who put that there?
inhale. circling my palms into the divots
of bone by my eye sockets, think of
my eyeballs hanging like marionettes
from string hooked into the folds of
my brain tissue.
I can do this for hours.
now my skin stretched a bit too
far, a crease forming from
the corners of my mouth dripping
down my chin into a
kind of restlessness
summers gone.
10/19/2008 Posted on 10/19/2008
Copyright © 2024 Katie Dean
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by George Hoerner on 10/19/08 at 07:07 PM Nice write Katie and welcome to 'pathetic'. But the seasons accept no truce. They push there way into our lives whether or not we accept them. |
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