child en machina
| March 14, 2010 | Posted by caroline under freeform |
i see your face turn to gray,
and your grin start to smart,
there’s a storm inside your head
unhinging, pillaging and provoked.
you’ve whipped away your umbrella,
wading, voraciously, searchingly,
in moonlit waters,
inviting a chill into your bones.
willingly, now,
your mind succumbs to fever,
and you stand up to the centre of the earth.
Chest outstretched to the moon,
its tentacles seek aether.
Begging for respite,
you challenge the wind to take you home,
asking to blend in till you’re unknown.
there’s nothing better to you than the touch of thin air.
you are pulled back to the beginning,
your roots shackled to your body,
waiting patiently where you left it.
sitting up,
you quietly return to us,
a machine,
robotic in response,
distracted in disposition;
none dare to break your silence.
