||[Jun. 19th, 2006|08:41 am]
it's slow at work and this just kind of came bubbling up to the surface.
we are the splintered daughters
falling through the in-betweens
of what society has chosen to see.
bordered by calligraphy
our beauty sleeps in crystal cages
like exhibits of unknown exotics
for celluloid fingers to flashbulb
into public shock and awe
we sleep with your questions
wrapped around us like shame
hold dreams to our hearts like
teddy bear soldiers
as the night turns dark prisms
around the script of after hour
the world's insomniacs become our only audience
as midnight bends just enough to make
us the stuff of their waking wet dreams.
we are the splinters that find the soft creases of public life
and slip in
silent and sorrowed
sticky sweet with femininity
we watch you watch us
squinting in the light to catch us in the in-betweens
of what is true and what is reality
and sometimes we let ourselves wonder
"do they see a pretty girl....