Perils of assimilation

If only life came with subtitles.

Thursday, March 01, 2007

Medusa's Daughter

I stop
The white fish swims in my teacup
Swimming in a sea of faith.
Words in my favorite song I’ve never heard before
Drinking from the bottle of smoke,
I lay my head on the pillow that weeps blood

I think I owe you some kind of death.
Animal of my mind wildly sniffing out the path
that I sit in the middle of.
I draw silver snakes out of my mouth,
I am Medusa’s daughter.
Words flicker on the edges of my vision
and shrink from my coming.


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