DEEP BREATH
you tore me into
LITTLE STRIPS
I hung, on a broken stick
in rags and tatters,
a teeth-chattering scarecrow
on a rusty hook
my eyes torn holes
in a stiff black curtain flapping
pointlessly in space
smoke-blind,
rose-pricked,
sky-haunted,
pecked-at by thin black crows
seconds before the crash came
you pushed me out. Now,
as I pull the ripcord,
I prepare myself to float
down into the ripe
and ready butterflies
POETRY LINKS
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