the stars, the sea, and sleep.

Monday, January 10, 2011

Pinwheel In A Puddle

She laid down with her right arm in the water
That was set in a cast and held up on stilts,
We wrote on it with metal, footsteps, and filaments.
Colored light in the water turned into oil
And a halo was put on the crescent moon
For the tides that pulled toward their final ascension.
We stood, as small as life, and made no intervention.

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