Liquidity
lonely escherian skeletons
rib a lake into canters.
their bones complicate its old face.
they crosshatch into tigers,
trellis through pregnant angles,
a clash of stripes on curved stilts
that somehow manage to glide.
such curvy green-gold-blues,
tease the senses like a protean harp,
strum spine, graze chest.
you, too, they sing, a lonely skeleton,
footsteps that spread to branch,
scions of symbol and deed,
ripples on a page.
========
The sort of thing we ought to think on when we hear "liquidity."
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment