We are folded together,
fleshed origami

or spaces

between cut-out dolls
where the eyes should be.

I warned you
of fusion, of kiss,

of dipping
into bowls
with your fingers,

the reflection
of someone-else
standing behind you
in a mirror.

Only God survives


the silvered skein
that shines pearl
and purple.

So we slowly
unravel, a little toy,
a top, a spool of thread,

to become
what we are not;


1 comment:

luc u! said...


i really enjoy your work. at least all of it that i have read to date.

i am especially drawn to this piece.

i was wondering if you would be willing to talk to me about using it (and a few others) in a project of mine.

i will explain in detail on email if you would be open to that sort of communication.

please email me @

luc DOT simonic AT gmail DOT com

thank you and my blessings to you for 2006.