I Can’t Speak (Poem)

image

Inch by inch

A short row

A heavy stitch

The right hand does sew

An ebony thread

Pokes through the mouth

That feeling of dread

As the needle plunges south

Alive and well

As it strings along

Tiny dots swell

Where the thread now belongs

A fevered shriek from behind

The hand sewn lips

The terror stricken mind.

(All Rights Reserved – 2014
C.D. Smith)

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