17 January 2010

Preservation

Starved in public, I am
the paper
weight,
waiting
to move,
your hand over me,
under gravity's
constant spell.
I am artificial--
insect in amber,
a novelty trapped and adored.
Look at me--
Look at me--
Symmetry
frozen in place,
while you pluck
the gray hairs from your
vocabulary.


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