blurring lines

i left the amniotic starship

landing on candlewick bedspread

unseen behind lace curtains

a sheltered birth,

dad notched his baseball bat

i was number three,

his way of memory

like folded candy wrappers

that something special,

a silent childhood

passed in grey school solitude

born invisible,

home the only place

colors came into appearance

becoming animation

voices and gestures

of laughter and song,

we breathed from

leonard cohens lungs

songs that filled the complete

with mothers long fingered

touch that was protective,

as a notch on a baseball bat

i would not be whittled away,

looking back

i could only think of the

new colors i had found

in my own home




Her Bare Feet

red toenails move

wrapped around

leonard cohen’s voice,

toes extended

as arch and sole

pressed together

rubbing softly

to the rhythm ,

as timbre of voice

fed through veins

vinyl’s soft scratch,

lying absorbed

flesh prickled,

this her moment

lost to sound

given to art

Charlotte Gainsbourg  AnOther

magpie tales statue stamp 185