When standing naked
in a field of shaded glass,
ensure you dream silent.

Let nobody borrow
your religion. Instead,
wrap it around you
like a cloak of indifference.

Be totally careful.
Be very much aware!

That the dripping you feel
is not from your soul.

Caress yourself, but only
in a manly fashion. Only
in pretend sort of hug.

Grab the door.
Open the vein.

Is it your blood that becomes
as translucent as a dying sparrow?

Or do you wear the
chain of many colours?

The links of empty doom?

I was sitting at my desk
and the
first thing I thought of
was how blue your skin
will be after the storm

Tweet

Comments on this poem/writing:

Click here to read other Poems by Chris G Vaillancourt

Copyright©2017-1999 by Rebecca R. Hammack

COPYRIGHT NOTICE: All Rights Reserved.   No part of this website, including all pictures and written words,  may be reproduced or copied in any manner from this website without  permission of the original author of the work.  All poetry and pictures herein remain the sole property of the original author and/or copyright owner.  All poetry on this website has been submitted by the original author of the work. To contact any author of the work please e-mail: dreamer@dreamersreality.com  so the proper person may be notified.