gossip

the world gossips
at the hems
of skirting eyes,
that can never hold
a steady gaze
into your soul.

even the shadow
of a flickering flame
stands rooted
at one end,
as it bends and follows
the light.

but not these words,
that tear people apart,
shredding reams of skin
and flesh and bones,
so you can chew on them
and spit them out at will.

gossip is the food
of scavengers,
too scared of the kill,
and of meeting the kin
of these burning,
bleeding hearts.