balloons can fly
Friday, March 16, 2007
lift the pinky for grace
strain the face's veins as if to mock
barely handling the strings of conscience
a smile escapes from soft, charming lips
as they say, ignorance is a never-ending bliss
(until one is ignorant no more)
and though eyes betray me
and blood curdles mercilessly
(leaving the skin rather dry)
i lift a finger, another, and another, and another, and another
and form lines that of a half-crescent
barely a second has passed in this moment
and everything reverts back to its natural form
of indifference and old, worn-out stairs
the feeling gone as quick as it had come
icicles had formed over my right shoulder
on the other, a seeping warm spot
it went unnoticed, deceiving even
but that's just me
flowers brushing the bare skin of my feet
i burst into a multitude of blank spaces
and with a shrug and a closing of the eyes
i sit down
and
wait for the bell to ring.
smiled at the sun again @ 9:58 PM,
