May 3, 2012

Quarantine and her eminence

Her pink frock, laced with white 
Beneath those mousy tresses, 
Her eyes subsumed
That immaculate sentiment- 
The very antagonist of vice 

Her hands that grew an octave expanse
Suffocated her self recognition 
Absent memory.
Upon the pixels of colored state 
"Find in me your ancient existence." 

This doll of diminutive Dutch 
Bartered the expense of Fond Camraderie 
For solitary prestige and eminence. 
But past her smitten mask of comfort 
Lies her fear of suffocating Quarantine

No comments:

Post a Comment