6:30 in the evening July 3rd, 2004
cries to hand
he sang to me
laying pebbles
carved on
sunken hearthstones
weeds engaging pebbles
as if
it was
so natural
leaf to rock
rock to flint
scattered remains
flint speaks
rock sings
burnt leaves
death visits me
once in while
letting me know
he can be alive
wasting away
right next to me
what a chance
to collect a soul
death expands
his breathe
I curse at God
“Just give me one more thing to handle.
I will combust”
I am polished stones
crushing into each other
rock to dust to flint
death kneels down
laying pebbles
neatly
one by one
crocheting webs
in a circle around me
I let him
spiders dance
spiders mate
I grow new legs
running laughing
“Catch me if you can
you son of a bitch.”
Josephine LiPuma
all rights reserved 2004
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