a whirring minute hand

a whirring minute hand

A Poem by Alicia

maybe you’re like a block of aged cheese
or a glass of fine wine

you have to ferment
wait out the insanity of these unstable years
and stew in your own juices
left to your own demise

until the cellar door is thrown open
and the dusty light comes down in chinks
bathing you in realization and fresh air
with just a hint of apprehension

until the truth is unveiled
like a painting in a gallery
a writer's hand finally steady
on a smoothed but crumpled page

until you’re a prized possession
an exotic delicacy

© 2010 Alicia


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Added on February 17, 2010
Last Updated on February 17, 2010

Author

Alicia
Alicia

MO



About
I live in the Chamber of Secrets and have a timeshare in Narnia (where I throw foam parties every weekend). I love Moon Over Buffalo and backwards ghost messages. I live for apple juice and british .. more..

Writing
the end the end

A Poem by Alicia


simplicity simplicity

A Poem by Alicia