(Spiderwebs)

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
Bent paper.

Submitted: August 10, 2009

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Submitted: August 10, 2009

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i found paper planes, stretched wings, bent fibres,
in piles beneath my blankets,
cuts sprouting from my fingertips,
as red swam from bruised lines.
they soared in the ripples of fabric,
the blues and grays,
and the smooth silk that wraps around glowing limbs in the cold night.

the next night i found paper cranes,
in a spectrum of black and gold,
shivering in a soft breeze -
their wings like to flutter, as if they were real,
and when they touch my fingers,
they cut like softened shards,
skin splitting like soft velvet.

tonight, fingers crawled up the xylophones of my chest,
the grooves fitting,
warmth and cold ivory against calloused tips,
with my limbs limp like cobwebs,
spinning shapes, thrashing into damp air.
my mouth opened,
silk spinning between my teeth and tongue,
threads of spittle and scarlet,
and i swallowed a lungful of air,
as i tried to scream
(tried)
but found i could not.


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