Rock Silk Haikus

Heaven is a bed

Silk sheet with mountain creases

Pulled straight at the end.

Wrap yourself in rocks

Rest inside your old scabbed wounds

Then sprout to the sun. 

Climb up to the top

Raise your hands to the first sun

And be wrapped in silk. 

Love is the rock silk

Feather soft salt in your wounds


Be still when it hurts

Let the pain alone move you

Like rocks thrown at silk. 

Published by Michael Sean Erickson

I write, act, and produce films in Los Angeles. Everything else is conjecture.

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