Saturday, December 30, 2006

Fluids force,

And what was once productive-rolling
skirts, skates, skips
as silence slips.
Breaking, calling,
Awaken falling,
Slowly conversations sift.

I'm free to go but not exactly free.
Confined to bed and feeling rather sick.
The southern window's become a baleful eye.
Busted now, I am no longer hidden.