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Under Glass







Under Glass

You hang from the skin
of an hour, strung aside rue
rowan, and belladonna.
Bundles of minutes, seconds flayed
into matters of atom and rage. Composite
shreds of an age, desiccated
sealed. Moving against a heath
collected by moon, swaying in worm-
bored oak.

I knot strings of days, years
past-worn touch. Every one
slipped through. But still I hear you
spinning in the rafters
building.

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Comments

( 2 comments — Leave a comment )
caffienekitty
Apr. 29th, 2013 05:49 am (UTC)
Very cool. :-)
ciaranbochna
Apr. 29th, 2013 08:01 am (UTC)
Thanks. I should go to bed now - damn TCM and The Seventh Seal for keeping me awake...lol
( 2 comments — Leave a comment )