As yellow as carbon paper
My heart darkens under
The ache of delivery
Your graphite tongue
Leaves smudges in the air
Like a sphinx or a chimney.
I often plagiarize you
Repeating your sundry riddles
To innocuous beholders
In search of a sympathizing fog

We are as contradictory as gods
Hoarding the sepia of momentum
Like amber-cast mosquitoes
Each of us running from
Something borrowed
Or someone blue

We starve on haute coutre
On a culture which has grown
As skeletal as migrating wax
Clutching fistfuls of smiles
Like sparks in search of kindling

7 responses to “Fog

  1. Pingback: The Inferno of Oz: A Gimpy Monologue | The Musings of a Digital Vagabond·

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