Oh Smithereens...
Oh, your skin,
your skin and bones…
Such a fine paste, I can’t
-I can’t separate the lines.
Where do I go from here?
There are so
so many questions.
And unopened letters
on a desk
I don’t recognize.
Smithereens,
smitten,
A system?
Will I find the gems?
Lit sequins
fashion a butterfly,
and knit secrets
wind around my
neck.
Protection?
Possession.
You, kitten,
define so many lives.
A witness.
Where are you pushing me?
Cause I want a gilded phoenix,
I make it static and stayed.
My name was freedom,
but I bought the cage.
Burn, and burn and burn and
black, red, dust, go.
This is not the news,
the story broke when I shut it off.
And now I twist and
sigh,
never rewind the tape.
Just play,
never rewinding the tape,
play play play.
Copyright © Jenifer Johansen | Year Posted 2009
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