Monday, September 21, 2009

Perishability, wet with honey.

Jean Dubuffet Smiling Face (French 1948)

For Fishantena.

How stuck,
And sticky,

My fingers have been blotted out by the
Delivery of skin.

My hands are ashen reminders,

There are leaves of you that have been torn out of me.

You're pink where we meet.
And my tongue pierces your fingers
between the sun.

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