Thursday, 1 October 2009

Choices. Answers. Problems.
The mind drips.
Loin cloths and surrender follow me across lawns
and down side streets in a chorus
of untaming, unfashionable silouettes,
composed of thunder.

Rain it falls.
Rain it addresses.
Rain it falls.

I hang myself upon your words,
upon the words i was too scared to say.
To shy to say.
In each moment
i slip further away from you.

Choices. Answers. Problems
Tomorrow, after sleep, perhaps.

No comments:

Post a Comment