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Literature Text
pretty things,
frozen pieces,
ever, sun,
long life, in the shadow of the neverending tower,
wonders for one's complexion, the storms and snowstorms are.
each of its teeth are a lifetime of worry,
and inside its mouth is a bite that can crush bone,
crush lead. but they never got around to guns,
just other mechanisms of death. they never got around to capturing it,
just its offspring, who die when maturing.
sometimes it sleeps in the snowstorms,
a blue and white offering of the gods of death in its wake,
fur that feels like silk, according to one person, and a shadow
that will live long after its gone, for fear any of its offspring make it.
frozen pieces,
ever, sun,
long life, in the shadow of the neverending tower,
wonders for one's complexion, the storms and snowstorms are.
each of its teeth are a lifetime of worry,
and inside its mouth is a bite that can crush bone,
crush lead. but they never got around to guns,
just other mechanisms of death. they never got around to capturing it,
just its offspring, who die when maturing.
sometimes it sleeps in the snowstorms,
a blue and white offering of the gods of death in its wake,
fur that feels like silk, according to one person, and a shadow
that will live long after its gone, for fear any of its offspring make it.
From the collection Skymetal.
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