Fleshpuppet

You spun layer on layer
in a cave to my shadow
throbbing like a heart against the walls:
I left the nest in a freefall
at your fingertips.

You spin stillness into
my chaotic wards when
I tumble through them like
a puppet cut loose:

You are holding
the gun.

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Posted February 25th, 2006 in main. Tagged: .

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