The Ant at the Grasshopper's Doorstep

An avalanche of flesh. Slinkies down her throat. Rubber balls under her dress. The rain on the window. Her sadness in syndication. More valuable with every frown. A comic book of sorrow. Memory in pages. In dark ink outlines.

Still waiting.

To be colored in.

A subdued thunderstorm. An empty bed. Doll's eyelashes caught between a blink and a stare. The sky tumbles down in floods. The sheets draw their sketches. In shades of touch. Lost to the abyss of each other. We paint the doors so red. We count the steps on the porch. Sold to the feeble arithmetic of lovers.

Continents of skin still defying oceans of experience.

The truth in pin pricks. My needle. In your haystack. Searching for itself.