Born in the Air, Reaching for the Ground

Thursday, October 24, 2013

Anthropomancy

I try to see my own heart
but there is so much
skin in the way.
Ribs meet at my breast-
bone to block me out.
Lungs must be thrust aside
and muscle unmoored.
I try to uncover understanding
but I lose strength
as bone and blood
solve my riddles
in patterns on the floor.


Posted by the girl in the dress at 5:24 PM No comments:
Email ThisBlogThis!Share to XShare to FacebookShare to Pinterest
Newer Posts Older Posts Home
Subscribe to: Posts (Atom)

Blog Archive

  • ►  2025 (1)
    • ►  April (1)
  • ►  2019 (1)
    • ►  July (1)
  • ►  2018 (2)
    • ►  May (2)
  • ►  2016 (2)
    • ►  January (2)
  • ►  2015 (20)
    • ►  December (2)
    • ►  October (2)
    • ►  September (1)
    • ►  August (3)
    • ►  June (3)
    • ►  May (3)
    • ►  April (3)
    • ►  March (1)
    • ►  February (1)
    • ►  January (1)
  • ►  2014 (32)
    • ►  December (2)
    • ►  October (2)
    • ►  September (1)
    • ►  July (4)
    • ►  June (7)
    • ►  May (6)
    • ►  April (3)
    • ►  March (3)
    • ►  February (4)
  • ▼  2013 (21)
    • ►  November (2)
    • ▼  October (1)
      • Anthropomancy
    • ►  September (2)
    • ►  June (1)
    • ►  May (1)
    • ►  April (7)
    • ►  March (6)
    • ►  February (1)
  • ►  2012 (33)
    • ►  November (1)
    • ►  August (1)
    • ►  July (1)
    • ►  June (1)
    • ►  May (4)
    • ►  April (6)
    • ►  March (12)
    • ►  February (7)
Watermark theme. Powered by Blogger.