Don’t Speak


A face peeled back, skinned, unwrapped,

those bare minted polos.

Hearts hacked out and filled with acid,

Sucked out like Rolos.


Drenched walls of an Icelandic box,

dug deep inside snow drifts.

On a parallel planet of frost,

their reality shifts.


Disappearing, waning, gone,

nothing to touch.

A stitch in the eye, don’t blink,

She’s swallowed too much.


An ally cat claws at the green,

enchanted by lights.

Noiselessly sad on

cold northern nights.