rusted

stacked
rusted holes
rusted edges
moves with
every wind
coming through
whistle screams
clamored for
soft silence

the rust strokes
caresses the feet
the knees
the hands
the knees
the sides
the back
the neck

the rust draws
deep lines
and short paths
quick beginning and
long
endings

stacked
rusted holes
rusted edges
stays
where lines
fade