Tag Archives: poems

They call her beautiful,
this rampant disaster
of folds and inner seas.

Impervious to everything,
she’s sealed shut,
reluctantly closed in.
Closed off,
zipped up with haphazard seams.

The interior design has
tangled itself,
darkly ravishing
flight,
devouring the mappings
until all these waters have been exiled.

She’s readied her drowning tools,
held every breath
until the stars illuminate
behind her eyes.

Her body’s made of pockets,
carrying cavities
built for signals
and secrets,
prepared for unfolding.

She busies the twine
between soft fingertips.
They call her beautiful,
words constructed
of insulation and costly vacancies.