from 24 hours- a daycircle of poems

Skeletal roots ( the bones’ dream)

Skeletal roots
Draw down
Bind tight
Plunge bony filaments
Into rotting earth

Lord of the Image
bone fibres
Thin as hairs
grow brittle mesh
over obsolete eyeballs;

Roots rot down
Secrete skeletal juice.

Here in this world I’ll
Marry myself
Solitude solutions
the bride I groom

Lord of my Tribe
I Promote myself
But skeletal roots still
Finger my spine

Trapped in bony webs
Paralysed by spider fear
That a glance could pierce
This skeletal armour

Lord of the Mind
I control myself
But my skeleton aches
To be chalk once more
And my skeletal roots
Probe the ocean floor.

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