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The Free Directory of Independent Writers and Artists

Tuesday, January 24, 2006

Sheets

I sit and stare at you.

Your crisp whiteness stares right back at me.

I search your features, your subtle imperfections, trying to uncover the secrets you hold.

Your crisp whiteness stares right back at me.

I threaten to defile your perfect cleanliness in hope of forcing your revelation.

Your crisp whiteness stares right back at me.

I carve a black line across your skin, sure you will divulge what lies within.

Your crisp, dissected, whiteness stares right back at me.

I rip you from your base, crush you down and discard you. Turning back I see you remain.

Your crisp whiteness stares right back at me.

And I realise, it is not you that holds the secrets, not you that holds the answers, not you in which the words reside.

It is within myself I must look. You are but a sheet of paper.

I sit and stare at you.

Your crisp whiteness stares right back at me.

Comments on "Sheets"

 

Blogger Diana said ... (12:10 PM) : 

Gave me chills...

 

Blogger Paul said ... (2:10 PM) : 

Had the same thing happen with one of those white tortilla chips.

 

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