as a blind puppet dangling
from five red strings
held to confuse the compass
: i lift the wooden hand
touch the map where it is marked
i was the rabbit behind the buckler
as i discover my own arms
burning melodiously
and how the hutch has
become too small for the shield
i found myself longing for the downs
except i don't know what to hide anymore
i don't know where to place
the crude currency of confidence
or who is holding the mirror,
who is holding the map
and in the nuzzle of (purely
coincidentally) the place where
her neck and shoulders meet
i realized too many somethings
to call an anything to question
that took me an everything to find
| | conor (![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif?v=92.1){kind=small} choux) wrote, |
and you are far away
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