It's not a memory, this place. I'm not sure that it's safe, either. |
There is a cold wind Embracing me - As I sink further and further into liquid gold - But there is fire In my stomach So the ice shards cannot Penetrate The white thieves chitter above me They want to steal, Their spying eyes glinting over everything, But I have nothing for them, so they leave me And far off lone scarves waft... Far off the breeze is not so cutting And they drift, those little squares, With no direction but sideways But then, spurred on by my thoughts - Who knew I had all that power?- My partner - the wind, before, so keen - leaves me, finding ally-ship in sailors And the mirror Shattered by their affair Surges those betrayers forward. The mirror Reflects only pain, now Please, anywhere but here The nowhere-shadow to the right of me, Curled underneath arching, judging, businesses Has found valuables In the black cages of human waste (And the thieves know this. They know what he has. They will steal. They will take.) I have nothing to offer him, either. I have no condolences. They left with the breeze To find new fabric to love. My feet keep sinking And I find cool underneath heat - Cool softness folding between my toes (it really does get everywhere) But it doesn't hurt It is warm. Warm and welcome and It grounds me Except it can only reach my ankles And who says I need those? My soul has no use For walking So I drift away Like night leaves Caught in the street - Anywhere but here |