Friday, 24 February 2012

The Burning & The Self Edge

heart-form cups, encloses, softness of brittle dryness.
the edge
the very edge
by warmth

turn turn the other cheek turn again

fold in.

selvedges that aren’t so neat
brink of senses feeling

a roll of cloth flies open I cannot gather it all into my arms
that which I can
I crumple
wrap round roll in bind tight
my edge held tight
covered tight

mmmmnow my inside is wrapped around my outside

the selvedge is to stop the unravelling
the edge of the same, the edge of the self

scar tissue isn’t so pretty
best to unwrap, fold flat,
slip this that other inside, hide

splitting yet bound

A scalding creature has slipped inside my skin
It threatens to explode scatter out and screams
to be held tight.

or perhaps it is an icy creature
under skin, into ribs

the soft creature deep inside
stretches out a shadow hand
and places it over a left lung high on the ribcage
a thumb touching a sternum

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