Monday, December 2


pretty little thing
he is
wrap him inside a bell jar
display him on the console
amongst the geodes and glass skulls
attracting attention
curiosity of his cabineted world
mossy bi-orb
supporting life with life.
lovely golden thing
he is
set him on a pedestal
a sideshow stylite perched on a pillar
contemplating velvet folds
while whispers multiply
in the sweltering silence
accompanied by the night creatures
always watching.
impossible thing 
he is
a collectible amongst forgetables
feathered heartbeats
tread on little toes
cross the grass expanse
wet with midnight dew
trip over themselves to be first
in a line that laces into delicate lights
right angles in the wrong places.

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