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Ballerina
April 28, 2009
electrocuted and
the light flashes
your skeleton is lit up by truth
and I see what you are
pressed across the lemon washed floor
It's Midnight on a Monday
and you are an oily river of turns
with eyes like bicycles on a busy street
Feet turned out, you really thought you forgot after all those years?
and you dance to some music
in your breath
I watch and you feel my eyes, it's too late and
reverse metamorphosis pushes you
back into the cocoon of reality
that shell of a ballerina washed
away with the dishwater
a ghost like caterpillar left for me
to feed
© Mike V., Morgantown, PA
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Favorite Quote:
"The prettiest flowers grow in the biggest pile of manure."