Etch #2391

PORTRAIT  OF MIKEY His eyes are a place where I go so that no one will see me.             There is a height in his eyes that he looks down from. I wake up beneath it and see him moving in the window. I remember this world, if not how I got here. This is the world with no place that does not see you. The smell of his hair is a circadian clock, sensing ending days. My hand is inside a flower that closes so the night will not see it. Its dawnself is soft next to the skull where it likes to be touched. Its midnightself is harsh on the shoulders where he bleached it years ago. The taste of his neck is a fact.  The taste of his neck is proof that there is an earthly structure to ho...View all