fragment.
mid-sentence, she felt
herself adored until
the approaching final
word.
he remains to her
a temple of refractive
symmetry, a hypothetical
attraction of protagonistic
antonyms.
it's midnight, no one
ought to be awake,
with dream life to invent
as yet unthought
cure for excess quiet.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment