am twisted, am i
not but shackled feeling down
i get touch when feeling lose i
shoulder hers sudden air
brightness takes, joy
is never always none wringing
sweat-wet shirt, mine
old ragged now edges friction-frayed lost
its original forever owner
somewhere dog-eared in
pages turning harsh as most
disaster profound old
so attached but crumbling almost
am twitching, twisting too close to doors close
such with grief simple slow as
right rain, replenishing as to used be
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment