Oxidate Poems

Obsidian Secrets

I swallow my secrets,
sour, acidic pills,
chipped pieces of the bizarre
that oxidate in my throat.

Iridescent webs shimmer,
facets of pebbles
spectulate over my weaknesses

gossiping along tempered veins
and sharply curved intersections,
of the igneous archipelagos
accumulated in my stomach.

Suburban blades
carve impulsive lesions
to tempt me from my mountain
but my lips are sealed

Molten rhyolite drivel winks,
folding self within self
tainted carbons,
manipulating hues,
flaunting volcanic stigmattas
best left suppressed

unless the light betrays
my tinted stones
and bright whispers flicker
from silent clefts
to escape my ranting eyes.