Wednesday, April 7, 2010

Bl. Ursulina

...and if getting there

is everything,

what am I to do upon arrival?

greet this world

with a glint of teeth

in a rose-lipped mouth?

moan like the

inside of an egg?

my pillow gut orders me

to turn it all around

head back,

eyes on the dirt

feel the bones

of someone

that walked this way

long ago.

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