Friday, April 18, 2008

In sight

I share -
offering
to your hooded lens
reptilian defense
of the spirit,
my festering
dream wounds,
the creatures
of my childhood
shoes and bed –
that guttural voice
so loud
so large
it must mutilate me...

soon

I present
the cool
relief
of reason
to pay your piper…
scream
at my bloody feet
desperate to ease
the marathon urge -
watching
that cold
eye that
does
not

blink

3 comments:

wreckfish said...

ouch ... aching weeping wounds in your words here

oniongirl said...

you ever bared your soul to somebody close to you? or had a really shite day emotionally; trying to hang on to normality - and caught that unblinking stare from them? the kind that lab professors wear when studying specimens?

thats what gave rise to this - the cold eye.

wreckfish said...

yes, definitely. it made me quieter, ultimately. know what you mean - like being looked at by a rather malevolent lizard.

hqsjmma - now that's def finnish ...