singing quietly; swimming synchronized; biting flesh; tasting red.
summer froze and i only know how to slip in the cold.
a mound of snow is like an audience,
i can only see one face at a time.
and when i am finally able to focus long enough it's only because I've already lost my footing
finding myself staring up through my once-far-too-curious eyes
not even jealous anymore.
i think,
"make a floor plan and hire your eyes.
this time make sure they do their fucking job."
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment