Alchemy


Words soar,
sentences twine,
ideas crystallize with
molecular precision.

At least, those are your dreams:
the reality is rough surgery
with dull blades,
a manual open to the map
of internal organs
and they all look alike --
firm knots of flesh
laced with ropy tendon
and the obscure scribbling
of veins.

But late at night
as you mop the blood,
it drifts across the floor
like feathers,
like leaves;
it drifts and it sparkles
like diamond dust.


© Jo Deurbrouck, 2000

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