Insects

There is an insect crawling up your spine,
I’m sorry for your soft whispers.
Promise it just wants to explore the depths of your vertebrae; spindly legs crave to trace the patterns there. I swear it means no harm, it’s yearning to hide in your veins, your blood, in shadows cast by bones through skin. Antennae reach out to mould themselves round the curve of your shape; insects pine to lie there.
Fingertips scratch spines, insects stroke spines.

Insects

Katie Eleanor

Maidstone, United Kingdom

  • Artist
    Notes

Artist's Description

Mind poem

,
desktop tablet-landscape content-width tablet-portrait workstream-4-across phone-landscape phone-portrait
desktop tablet-landscape content-width tablet-portrait workstream-4-across phone-landscape phone-portrait

10% off

for joining the Redbubble mailing list

Receive exclusive deals and awesome artist news and content right to your inbox. Free for your convenience.