To the reader

Some thoughts, I cannot keep.

Friday, October 19, 2012

Imagining Her Insides

There is skin
and muscle and bone,
the walls that contain her
are most pleasing to the eye.

The lacy filigree of blood,
red swirling rococo
from her toes to her tongue.

Her heart, that mighty engine,
pulses like a fountain
in the courtyard of her ribcage.

Her brain is a maze,
I wander through the hedgerows
and pause to admire
a most beautiful thought.

As perfect as Versailles,
she turns to see her reflection,
and frowns.

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