Building 19

A Poem by Broken.

Some say not all that glitters is gold
except the sheen of sweat on my thigh
I stop and think now of being

"wet thighed with surrender"

but even that is from a dark fairytale
I float in a winding stream
staying far from the waters edge
sharp rocks cut and pinch me
I learn to work around them

Working together like a machine
a pattern of movements
Syncronized to a puzzle
finding what fits together is easy
but picking up the pieces and
willing them to work is the hardest part
Hands dance along mountains
and valleys with their
indescribable texture
and the warmth melts me
molds me into the perfect shape
and I, being one who travels the world
has not yet visited this place

This place of Building 19

© 2008 Broken.

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Reviews

Vanessa

Ah.. I decided that this needed a better analysis.
I've still come up with the same idea, however.
Don't know what Building 19 may be, but I hope that you'll tell me, sacrifice the mystery here, the sort that makes everyone baffled as to what this could be about??

-The magical healing hugger,
Vanessa