Dressed as a fairy
He stood on the pedestal
Composing another of his fairy-tales,
Ate alphabets from the air
Making words disappear
Melting the minds
Cementing the layers
With tunes of human despair.
Each soul sang the song, frozen in his throat,
This was my song.
The milk from his udders flowed through me
Trickling down, vertically
from my eyes to my knees.
Mimicking mirror, showed me a coward,
bedazzled in his prism of cries.
he asked me for some direction, saying he lacks conviction.
Haunted by Certainty, his beloved mistress.
He wondered why he always found Curiosity, her sister,
In his bed.
Sunday, March 2, 2008
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