Under the Full Moon

Aged and silent cavity

how I long to be pulled from your extremity

skeletal demise

becomes unity

dancing on the grave

of

captivity.

 

What has weathered the cost to sit by your glass feet?

 

A long, gray coat disappears

under the full moon

and I wish

to be in your womb

once again.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s