Tuesday, March 1, 2011

Dissasemble


When it started I was sleeping

Dreaming of being in love and

My hand broke and fell off

No longer able to pen the words

That I have always hid behind

My voice was love’s next casualty

Quivering while trying to say your name

On the phone, in conversation

I couldn’t even speak face to face

A croak, a whisper and it too was no more

The clavicle gave in to my shoulder

Proved useless by the lack of hands

And I rolled to one side and off the bed

Like one who has had a stroke

And with no voice to call for help

I had fallen and couldn’t get up

Imagine my surprise when I discovered

That my feet began rooting to the carpet

A shaggy nude wall to wall fibrousity

Unable to move less my ankles break as well

The cords of muscles knot into disuse

Unconnecting to knobby knees

Til only the torso remains

Everything has a way of going back

To its own origins, unselected de-evolution

The remnants of our love is back to lust

And the only things remaining in the shadow

Are tits and ass

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