noitcelfeRA Poem by eglantineIf I am there, against the glass-- on the other side of the crooked mirror on the wall (crooked because I hung it myself),
then who is here, cross-legged and delicately tasting words she learned beneath invisible stars (invisible because she drew them herself)?
Same freckle, cross-stitch of veins, yet our eyes meet--my eyes, and the warmth retreats from my pulse.
My lungs are pinned like moth-wings inside of my chest, contained from dust and safe from rust.
But my moth is not yet dead-- it is center gravity and it steers me, gently, to the light. © 2012 eglantineFeatured Review
Reviews
|
Stats
550 Views
16 Reviews Added on September 17, 2012 Last Updated on September 17, 2012 |

Flag Writing