Ink was pierced into her as she tattooed poetry on her veins
They told stories of blood loss
Mind envied heart for its freedom
As the intellect could never grow past reason
They told her her reasons were below theirs
And so she spilt ink of the floor and walked barefoot on it
So they could see the footsteps of her thinking
From mind to body the ink spilt
And all watched on as passion painted the floor a red liquid
Mind envied heart for its freedom
As the intellect could never grow past reason
Foot envied tongue for its speaking
And tongue envied eyes for its seeing
She being young could always tell
That cynicism was more a crutch than an excuse
Beauty came and went like change
Growing deeper and leaving evidence of life
Like wrinkles in space and time
But thoughts resisted aging to the body’s rhythm
They follow either mind or heart
No comments:
Post a Comment