Social science — solstice
sinew, blood and bones. My skin.
I sense my so called life trickled into noiseless pools
Sewing self, be stitched together
be embroidered ember
I’m sitting thinking cloudless sky,
reflected in the the glass: my denseness
this enduring pace
this endearing place.
I toggle thoughts from craven craves.
to fierce and fire
to lust of last and less than more
Today I’m brought the light,
a turn of tide.
to stop at setting sun —
dripping tripping skeletons
kissing pensive thighs
this blast of bell ungrip my heart.
Karin treats us to the process of writing starting just from a letter at toads. I wrote this earlier today starting from the letter s. Just some small editing afterwards.
December 22, 2017