A Nude Spine Poem by Anahit Arustamyan

A NUDE SPINE
I keep my window open for a rainbow's eyes. The rainbow is too high to notice my ride. There is always a sad rhyme on any autumn's tongue. Any miracle is invented to be a short line. Nothing has been invented to capture a puddle to wipe. No autumn is ever sudden as an old year has to slide. O, miracle, you are a fable invented to be bright! A nude foot may seek a shoe in a buried pile. A root is nude or nothing without its flower's smile. A rainbow whispers something but its voice gets lost in the sky. O, miracle! Will you capture me or are you a bit shy? O, rainbow! Will you be my smashed lamp's glass? I seem to have heard so many autumns' rhymes. Will a shirt be a bandage for a nude spine?