between
Run away screamed the frog to the fly
as the long tongue reached out, out, out
look in my eye cried the woman
as the snakes twined in and out, in and out.
This has no meaning stammered the scholar
as the pen wrote on, on, on.
No not finished
The brush stroke arrested
the body as stone
the wings rendered useless
cleanse through fire
the untidy bits
the half finished forgotten pattern
the moment where...
a million little regrets
save the deaths
sacred somehow despite
the vulgarity of the moment
memory burnt deeper than
another fire can reach
Water trickles down
the walls of clay
only a moment, an eternity,
the same trickle
How is it with you?
folds on folds
run away sceams the frog.
with me it is layers
of crumbling clay.