Tuesday, October 4, 2011

yea, and we are enchanted


but I've been living here for quite some time 
with soot between my toes from whence I dance on flames
and crush coals to squeeze out black oily nuggets
with which I kneel in the dust and carve your feature
in black

and I'm here amongst the dried reeds

a bed of moss and leaves

surrounding a pit and ceiling that opens up to the air

my only possessions are many whites sheets of paper

and over and over I smudge your hallmark  onto their coats
covering them whole with the ides of yours
in a matchbox, thatched box, in the middle of the ruin
where I spend myself
scratching the world around with pictures of your teeth
your eyes, ears, and cheek bones

and I don't eat

and I rarely sleep

and I feed my fires with your face

s. sparling

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