05012011

in this white

and silent space

i sometimes hear

the vibrant thud

of heavy stone

the tinkling

of shattering glass

thin and vulnerable

and confused

rocks hurled

to break

life

blood

bone

but i do not shudder

and i do not fall

for the light shines

naked and bright

and after all

we are all

(aren’t we?)

porcelain dolls

living

in glass houses