Thursday, October 29, 2009

This White Rabbit

Follow this white rabbit
To the bottom of my stomach,
Where sticks and stones
Will break my bones
But words can truly punish.

Patience while I break this habit;
It cycles like a chorus,
These flats and sharps
That score my heart,
These hearty vines that flourish.

Like vines a house will make decrepit
Old and sad and broken,
The song has roots
That line this chute
Tapping words unspoken.

Unfairly I remain the skeptic
(Your reasoning seems brittle)
A house of cards
Falls in my palm
To show you cared so little.

Like dealers taking bets, expectant,
I'll paint my roses red
The smile remains
To hear my name
Whispered in your bed.

1 comment:

  1. Greetings from Cape Town,
    Interesting poetry. I will be back to see some more.
    Thanks for sharing.