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Sykopanther - 2001 All rights reserved

Saturday, April 09, 2005

eye to purse, eye to purse

i have memories of banging my head on the table. vivid throbs of pain. but i cry because the pain disappears before even one grain of sand can drip through that hole in infinity where time was born. a fraction of a second. harsh whispers of "it didn't happen". and i keep tears in my purse like coins. i am shamelessly generous with them. they are also aspirins for this guilt. i suck on them one by one and more just stream out and harden.
the grains of sand keep trickling and there is no movement but of my hand, from eye to mouth, eye to mouth, purse to mouth, eye to purse, eye to purse and eye to purse.
Posted by NHJ 4/09/2005 10:17:00 pm