Our weight shifts back, forth
Each forward motion contorts, progresses
Hard to taste, touch, tell
Which is which.
Three years and more
We have been playing at
This way love inhabits, inhibits.
Each action conceals, reveals
Some edge, perimeter, border
Dissolving, erecting,
This space, this thing,
This us.
(cc) Karen G. Johnston
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment