just outside the sunbeamresting in the grey tonesand dust motesat the back of the bottomshelf gaze lowered takingnew notesI’m breathing in others’light saving momentsfor making wordswanting more than sorrysilence but my page is rarelyever heardthinking that the worldmoves too fast for meto contemplateand standing still onthis dying hill can’t decidemy fateso I’m slowing downthe tempo… Continue reading bashful (14/100)
doubtless
What are you doing oh mother of mine?Holding worlds on my back all of the time. When will your tireless work be all done?Not likely ‘til infinity plus one.
rifle (13/100)
