The freezing cold,
the imminent
sleep left me daft
and reeling
Three-legged or
two (or one
at it's end, we
teeter and
fall off of curbs);
I hold you like
a sinking raft.
Warmth: was it wrong;
is it wrong?
What do you think
about things;
I don't think I've
told you any-
thing true yet;
Don't think:
Just try to have
a good time.
But all this heat
seems so wrong:
When we run the
three-legged race.
2 comments:
Dawn (A Reply)
Your muffled voice
infrequently
breaks through cold air
to my ears:
weathering words
now again
taking new form
absent their
modifiers-
their pointed gaze
is sheathed in grey.
Yet, in your arm
there the strong
shout, the reply
bursting forth-
Their certain calm
a bright parry
to mute lips.
The chill
of the unsaid
melts in mist,
the glow of sun.
Am I blind
in forgetting
silences now?
This is fantastic :).
Post a Comment