Monday`s child lay motionless
Cradled by waves of sky reflections
Coasting off guard, fragile, and due
On the back of deep blue suppressed concerns
Surrounding, and comfortably sustaining
An appetite becoming, emerging
Like a dream, seeping effortlessly
Each breach on her punctured skin
Pressing, and overflowing with life
Soaking its way back into her
Fastened, and afraid of drowning
In these soft visions glistening
Oh reality, what perfect form or place
That brief and gentle kiss of clarity
Spitting its love, in some foreign counsel
Yours is not the pure waters flowing
But rather, stagnant, saturating dwellings
Brimful, blending the blinking images
Of your distorted secrets, crawling carelessly
On tension spots of consequence, and neglect
Disarmed, she begs on crippling knees
What vinegar compassion, tickles the senses
Of the two-faced curious bystander
Only to surrender the grip, root deep
On he who lays wounded, in your hefty love
© Carla, 2011
