POEMS THAT MAKE NO SENSE—2
their flesh bears no scars
only coldness forgotten
and bizarre
never pealing layers
of bleeding hearts
no strings attached
just beings from
odd spaceplaces
dead and dying to
be done with it
all in all their souls
are very still like
blotting paper
absorbing the pink
and blue emotions
of litmus reviews..
Blank…
landscapes on which to
pursue frightening
invasive
disclosures
thin lines of
multiple
foreclosures
mirrors unsheet
forgotten relics
of exposure
in shattered
gutted
shutters
© Kim van Breda—8 October 2o15
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