(no subject)
(Forgive me,) I want to catalogue you:
how dewed are your decimals, how
yellow the peel of your spine, how low
your shelves have bowed and buckled, how sweet
the smell of your mildewed stacks.
---
All of my guesses
turning cold and quiet: a handful of stones
perched and piled on the shore and not one of them
fit for a skip.
---
Who knows?! You probably smell like ordinary soap.
(which would be the best, best, best
because then whoever bites your fingernails
would get sudsy in their mouths a bit, all that
ordinary soap caught in the crescent)
how dewed are your decimals, how
yellow the peel of your spine, how low
your shelves have bowed and buckled, how sweet
the smell of your mildewed stacks.
---
All of my guesses
turning cold and quiet: a handful of stones
perched and piled on the shore and not one of them
fit for a skip.
---
Who knows?! You probably smell like ordinary soap.
(which would be the best, best, best
because then whoever bites your fingernails
would get sudsy in their mouths a bit, all that
ordinary soap caught in the crescent)