Thursday, 28 March 2013

The Nesting Doll

The night orb knows one nesting doll that's under lock and key. Shake, joggle, you won't hear a peep out of what's resting on the navel point. Walled and fenced, the stratified form is in plain sight. Layers all croon but the one in the middle is out of earshot.  Nevertheless, its tune only is audible to those who are queer and thin on the ground.

The female moon, bewitched by ambiguity, notices how the impermeable curio's element alters under various lights. It does flare up in the public eye and as well dies down against the wind's course. One she cannot stand the most is its woebegone eyes that cause her sky a hefty downpour.

Wishing for that day when the male matryoshka's owner finally comes by to unloose it part by part, and return its very center piece. That way, this nesting doll will be whole again.



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