Ascent/Descent

we scale the walls of treachery

pull the teeth from winter's yaw

with delicate fingers

deft hands

grimy, gutting glances

a bloodletting

consummated with

soiled paper sheets, you

milking shadows from the breasts of naked trees

closer to me than words on a page

these fragile things, like sleep

or paper thin prayers

illuminate you in fiery glass shards

for we are splintered

and sharp

for cutting

© 2011 A.g. Synclair