the painter's poet
writings from onna hui

Thursday, February 17, 2011

Preservation

There is a lullaby that sings to my hollow shell
her tune whose haunting melody
sounds off in measures and chords:

Lie awake in a bed of lies
for self-preservation, I preserve
the preservation of the worse kind.
Killer kills the weak
Self-preservation saves the strong.
Here in a bed of lies, I sink unto sleep.