Wednesday, May 26, 2010

Rough-hewn.

Avail me of your senses, if you please.
Give over to me
Your glassy eyes
Your forked tongue
Your layers of skin-thin paper
Your taste in clothes.
Give me that other sense,
The one between, the one that you're unsure of
But never betrays you.
I will treat them carefully,
And be sure to hand them back when I am done.

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