Natural pigment

Lily-white me I show many a mark.
I seemingly gruel to procreate the little
French cat that crawled into my throat
and laid down for a while, only that.
This cannot profile a man who sat
for twenty years dreaming in narcosis,
the yellow sleep no haunts inhabit.
Poor confessor me, a creature of habit
that daunts his own reflection for
whatever scrawny reasons I want more
of in my lonesome coterie. Stretching,
oh loudly, stretching to a pristine zero
that wraps its slinker arms over me
with its fingernails clapping a future out.

~ by Jeremy on May 30, 2012.

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: