Leave Your Shoes On, by Khristy Nickerson Subscribe to rss feed for Khristy Nickerson

I know you're home
as soon as the door
swings open
and booms
to fit its frame,
It causes my mind
to stagger
in which tone
I should pronounce
your name


Should I shuffle
my way to you,
and act intrigued
with any news
because it came
from you?
Or will I become
another insect,
molded into the cracks
on the bottoms 
of your shoes?


If you loved me,
you'd recognize
that my smile 
is only stark
with a good supply 
of novocaine,
my cheeks no longer
feel limp 
from the strain


If you loved me,
you'd have the desire
to meet simplicity,
if you ever did read
a single line
of my poetry


But you're the smoke,
from a dying fire,
flowing through 
and out the top
of our chimney,
the object
that I forgetfully
drop through slits,
with no pockets-
You rise 
as you slip
right through me


Thus,
you don't go about
wasting your time
trying to untie knots
when you know not
the direct location
of the spots
Posted: 2012-09-13 05:32:42 UTC

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2012-10-14 19:55:20maddy_7929
Lovely metaphors and choice of words.