Day 7
Easy as
Turning eyes away
Arms passive
Words astray
You bestow on me this pain
And then look elsewhere
I'm phantom
The blur in old prints
Cracked, seeping
Meltwater
By absence of scrutiny
I cease now to be
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
-
Day Twenty-Nine Seems like you were always leaving Or left. Leaving with Your roaring engine voice. Left in the split Of your fire-crack...
-
Day Twenty Fantastic style designs on pottery from Hacilar. Image from Yakar 2005. The ancients believed That culture was Construed by pot... -
Day 2 Simple fingers to the string What a little thing to cultivate, unreal as it is; not to be seen or touched but felt, enduring, where so...
No comments:
Post a Comment