Friday, May 25, 2012


You hide me -
in the recess of your mind
the furthest block
a box
as smooth as new.

But all the other ones I see
are chipped -
tossed about -
and opened many times.

Silk is my skin -
so thin am I
this smooth box
with a tarnished flap of mind.

I feel the weight of you
this crushing loss of breath
hoping that you'll see me
and open me to you -
or let me go.

No longer trapped
forgotten -
in this pristine place
hidden -
in the back of your mind.

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