Thursday, February 25, 2010

you leave

...
you leave me.

I'm here you're there, too far to hear,
to hear your curls.
Nor your shoulder with freckles.

I suppose it's time. I never left.

Transparency was clouded.

Now such clutter surrounds what I think is empty
like seeing though ice,
light and darks
but no composition enough to recognize
when you left.
...


..

No comments:

Post a Comment