The face is porcelain, sourceless perfection towed from the cemetery whites of the sea 5 and spit upon by lime, cremated to this coldness, this clarity. Blank statuette, unriven by sweetness or sorrow, smooth as a blind moon 10 or dew on a cactus! Follicleless, is this the end of wrath and worry? Does a wild rabbit shred cries below your shine? 15 Anatomy entrapped by a sheen, mechanism steeled to a polish, there are such depths in your surfaces! A star could not finish it. No sun 20 can blanche you beyond what you are. Limitless glares anger at you larynx that never once hurt open for air. How does it feel to be in there 25 seamless and beaming? Tell me, tell me! Open your mouth and bleed a God-spout, a riot.
From the collection "Naked Eloquence"
Written by Gregg Glory [Gregg G. Brown]
More information available on gregglory.com.