pixelated. lives (autumn_tulips) wrote in poetic_rains,
pixelated. lives

A Top

I am unsettled; I spin

Like a top let loose on a corrugated terrain

With a distinct eye fixed at the far end of the wall

Holding a message for me; slyly asking,

“Will you let up once more?”

Air currents jab at my sides;

I pirouette on steepled feet; my footwork

Honed and worn smooth, like a trusty old chair.

My spinning neck

Feels the eye’s gaze, jabbing at me

Waiting on the far side, its lashes still moist

from our frenzied parting

and I turn and turn again, disconcerted, un-concerned, out of sync with all the world.

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