Erosion of Scales

bald patches on wings
show where butterflies have shed
the bloom of their youth

late Spring stars, pastel
green & cream, teeter over
a red passion point

the sunrise place shows
the price to be received, or
the price to be paid

fish for dinner means
the dull knife scrapes the wrong way,
scales fly everywhere

the indigo just
shed its skin, gleaming black-blue,
(dry, soft, tasting musk)

hairspray mists around
teased hair stripped roughly downward
for the school’s Spring play

dark surrounds the flame
of one lit candle, carried
by a voice singing,
its melody bent modal,
as it winds from old to new

2 responses to “Erosion of Scales

  1. Interesting. Sort of like the mind fliting from place to place as you try to fall sleep at night.

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