Friday, August 3, 2012

Bloodless beetle

Your thumb sits
on this page like a bloodless beetle.
Mouth my words.
I don’t know their value.
You place the weights on the scale.
Here, tell me the meaning, here.
Speak these lines,
explain their rhythms, their depths.
I need to hear it from you.

I have written this poem
but I have completed nothing.

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