Up a staircase
Winding round
I say nothing
Eyes Wide Down
Powdered footsteps
Open like gravel road
U say nothing
No breaking the moment’s hold
Asbestos powdercase
Eyelashes by Mold
We touch fingertips
Sudden. Bold.
Crunchy black taffeta
Shiny Patent Waste
Bodies; barely bent!
Still not visible-Our Haste
In & Out, Up & Down
Marionettes sans strings
Softest crunch-Open, Shut!
Scandals that lack the obscene
Little shake here-Angry jerk there
All back tidy and well
Gilded stairwells; Empty Rooms
They don’t kiss-We don’t tell.
~PW
~thefirstdark, c.8/2014
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