I Am A ChildI am a child. I like to skip rocks and fill my pockets with them.
I like to scar. (such is my jewelry).
I'm used to skipping through the bright patches on the pavement in the summer.
Over my bare feet a shallow stream
Silent, consuming, unappeasable
Maddness and trust
A hurried definite touch,
Unreasonably cruel. (the Menace of life has warm lips, no questions, no ambiguity, only a seizing vigorous grasp)
I'll get scolded for
-I always do!-
And it's true
I might as well go blind (and blind is what their spiteful time-consuming 'game' will do to me), they'd be terrified the same.
Because there's too much skin to cut through.
There's too much 'sin' in deliverance
For their leisurely "comme il faut"
I've seen them hang their empty skins
From the lower branches
-When they tan:
Their eyes flicker of a foreign lust
As their numbness-coating vaguely crackles
And they get their indulge