Airy glitter,
living flutter
crackles in my mouth.
A white weave of spicules
spreads across
translucent ground.
Spin, spin,
the busy bones
spill the warp, the weft.
Dress my skin
in chrystalline,
in milky rime and rest.
Take me for a sculpture;
a marble Caryatid.
Take me in
your feather hands,
shape my arms, my legs.
Soothe me with
your silent songs,
blow into me your breath.
Across the fields
the pancakes burn,
she's praying
I'll catch my death.
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