Threadbare

By Strataic

It's not--been-

Since-then--
We-
Grew-smaller and,
Hard--of--hearing.


I'm a statue of
Bygone erosion-
Waiting.

To feel-less frigid.
More discoloured with,
Pigment.

Mahogany hearts
Don't beat life-signs,
Anymore--



The fault is neither.


Yet-
Cold thoughts keep
Me-
Warm sometimes.

I'd claw myself,
Faceless--

Just-to-connect-again,
To sustain.

Unauthorized Copying Is Prohibited. Ask the author first.
Copyright 2013 Cipher
Published on Monday, October 14, 2013.     Filed under: "Poetry"
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Comments on "Threadbare "

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  • A former member wrote: I love the way you punctuated this with the dashes. It really communicates the poem's rhythm.


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