My hand holds a word
And the word is unspoken
My heart hides a stone
And the stone is a token
My stomach grows tight
Like my throat that is choking
My eyes: wicks of candles
Blown out, amber and smoking
My back is a burden
Red, hot and swollen
My mouth speaks this poem
But the words are thus stolen
Copyright 2003 Stranger
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Printed from www.DarkPoetry.com/dp/1107/14133 on Wednesday December 03rd, 2008 12:23 AM
Certain elements © 1996-2008 Matthew Steven (matts.org)
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