Monday, October 21, 2013

pen in ice

dipped the pen in ice
so I could better understand your frigidity
and apply it to my writing
like cold butter spread on bread
it will not
it will not
move when I budge
it crumbles in my fingers, it scrapes
against my tongue and I swallow
what I can and regurgitate your fears
tell you how the cruelest thrive
tell you what you want to hear.