Clockwork Words
I.
Early night and damp-steeped air
leaking in the window
Framed eyes, his breathing heart,
and inhales of ink
II.
Pressure of warmth or solid air
filling in my heart
Every steady drip pours
like golden ink
III.
Sound of providence swallowed,
moving through him
Steady weight, a slowing pace,
and he breathes
IV.
The clockwork of words is swallowed
in every hesitant breath
Jaggeds of letters fill me
and I wait.
The End
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THE GOODS
You're currently reading a chapter in the work
Over My Head (A Portrait in Sevenfold). This chapter
was posted on Aug 23, 2009 by
Archi_Teuthis.
This is a solo work.
About this work
"A "Series of Seven" poetry collection.
As inspired by a friend of mine."
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