69.65.85.69

2008 06 29 19.06

3 Moiras weaving silence
From the words of the Unsaid
Inside a Mind.
I Try to read the Braille
With fingertips all Burnt.


3 Spiders, whose venom paralyses anything that moves
Marches down the Spine.
I let them.
No gravediggers around.
Afterall, it's better to see
That one and only Point of Sky
In front of You.

3 Rings incarcerating
The spirits of the Great Trees.
I wear Them.
Nobody else, I guess,
Would bear the heaviness
Of them.

I put my oceans in a jar.
Again, all 3 of them,
Aligning vessels o n the shelf
The Silence.
Spider's Stings.
The Heaviness.
It's all there too.
But aching fingertips surmount it all.