skin’s music

In this skin i feel my music.
In this skin i know my face.
It’s not a canary caressing a sonnet.
But more like a crow beneath fog’s sweaty cape.
My crackling caw is gruff on arrival.
Grasping at branches long since forgotten.
Shaking loose a story from the bottom of the gullet.
I sound the call of life with my throat to heaven gaping.
Loud, gruff, stubbly, and obtuse.
This is my song, i am its valley.
But even the thorn makes a lasting impression.
And what is one’s life but its effect on others?
My body is a tiny pebble, and this life
a ripple through the fabric of forever.

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Categorized in: ... February 9, 2009 11:37 am Tags:


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