Fingernail

The moon upon your fingernail,

like the smudge upon the spiders back,

reminds me 

that I am insignificant.

But I will not spurn the trees

who have stretched their limbs beneath the rocks

and kissed the calcite on her cheek.

I will seduce the ink stained sky

and live as a cloud of cigarette smoke.

Reviews

[SwagMaster]

Good poem, I enjoyed it.

Please mark this constructive and review me back!