Sunday, February 01, 2009


Layer after layer,
gloom gurgles through
weary senses.
It spreads like oil, and binds to
every atom

to infect,
to obscure.

I find myself second-guessing
the obvious, retracing my steps
a thousand times, lest syntax
betray me.

And I struggle to broadcast
vital signs through this static;

and I pray
that my truth won’t be too maimed
when it reaches you.

Copyright ©2009 Anna Piutti
Published in DY Magazine on June 1, 2010.