un ravel ing

the thread fed through

the eye of the needle,

needed and depleted

shouting down the corridors

of her own throat


“pull it together, don’t choke now”



a Venetian courtesan

bare back basking in the white heat

for the amusement of an elementary imagination


tired of being twisted,

patching broken brains

aching since pulp


meanwhile, the world folds and

seeks the safety of her back pocket,


“carry me, steady me”


but she’s

u    n      r a   v     e     l    i         n     g



Leave a Reply

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

WordPress.com Logo

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

Facebook photo

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

Connecting to %s

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: