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Can't Afford the Colour

Heavy shading, a graphite statue
my thoughts loose as a nut in the shell
digits adapted to do the devil's work
wrapped around my vices like serpent tongues

I creak and swell in storms.

Ocean's lap at my achille's heels
spit and rasp in lended ears
they long to make my colours run
and paint my future dark and dull

too weak, too small to fully form

Our little light is cloaked in shadows
shackles forever tight
flesh and bones hoard a clean white canvas
snug inside the the comfort zone

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Infinite Improbability Drive

Infinite Improbability Drive

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