Dwelling in the black,
the white worm called
out: some say white
orders, while chaos'
shadow destroys.
But the circumference
soon centers
that noirish truth.
The worm blanched
by the dark
is no more stable
than a crease
of light
over a lake
on a summer night
or a pursed
lip over her ear.
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1 comment:
You seem to have a fondness of worms (are you a fisherman?)and I am trying to figure out what they are actually in relation to. Maybe people? Am I close?
I love the image of
'a crease of light
over a lake
on a summers night
or a pursed lip
over her ear'
Beautiful, you.
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