Followers

Friday, November 5, 2010

fiction

i tore out the pages
where you feigned love,
like a carpenter ant
discovers a new home
(a place to dwell,
and later, eat).

it wasn't much.
there was never much to say.
so i folded up each page,
into soiled hands
sewn together
in permanent confession
(a place to dwell, 
and later, eat).

2 comments:

Amanda Joy said...

love that image.. those hands..
sewn together.. in...

seth elkins said...

it had been stuck in my head for some time.

glad you likes.