Irises spinning, needles
Pierce and dance madly,
Butcher and dismember sclera’s grace,
But in such madness, one can’t help
Admiration’s
Cruel grip.
The cat’s tails dance upon my back, and Atlas’ Burden grows yet heavier,
But in a senseless fervor,
I carry on.
Claws’ whetstone by nature, I feel fulfilled.
I thirst for her, and gorge as one would
Upon the ocean,
Drinking,
But never sated.
The sand loosens, and into the ‘Lion’s trap I
Dive.
Crushed beneath that weight, but still feeling so light
That I fear I may fall into the sky.
Strands of Black, and brown, and red
Tangle, weave, and entrap me
B
