I remember your shoulder
Soft and loose
In what world
Could such a delicate curve
Hoist the vast towers of your thoughts
But just as Atlas carries the world
They do
For your form is divine
Carved from ductile birch
And spry as an adolescent doe
Your armor is the colors of memories
Faded into you like paint into parchment
Language and nature
Pure, as if from the ancient times
Becomes your scales
Shimmering textures in the sun
They mean the most to you
For no outsiders
Will ever see the dimension
To the artwork you have become



Leave a Reply

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

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

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ 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 )


Connecting to %s