Fossil Beetles in Amber

i ransack my mind
for poetry,
finding nothing but matchbox cars
and a piece of frayed string.

my brain has suffocated
in another day's rush and tumble.

a few crinkled words-
notions captured
on faded red and green
accordioned crepe paper,
dehydrated thoughts-
unfurl
dusty verbiage:
glissandi riffs
of separation's purgatory.

notions of your beauty
pleading to be freed-
fossil beetles in amber:
images of sensual perfection.