Skin settles, finally
on night stands,
or gathers under beds
tucks into opening cracks in the floorboards.
But for moments of days,
it floated
passing sunny windows, sparkling
all the way down.
would it make any difference if i broke the last line into four?
all
the
way
down...
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2 comments:
You have a strange way of seeing ordinary things.
hehe. i guess i do.
i had this "saved" (read: hidden) cuz i wasn't sure if it wasn't in fact, some really Bad Poetry. I can't tell anymore. But I don't have anyone who i can turn to and ask. friends will claim it's good no matter how bad.
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