Saturday, September 26, 2009

Medusa Medusa Medusa

I'm trying to lure the darkness
of your soul with my
own. What else is there
to give? Everything

I touch turns to dust, my people
to bubble and smoke, my
memories nothing but
ceaseless words and
skin. I forget
my lies, I do not
remember my craft,

The morning finds me bereft of dreams.
I am stone.