The glimpse
between
them
straight lines them straight lines
movement AND the top of it
looking up one realizes:
one never looks up
melancholic trim
what am I for what am I for what has all the chipping been for
to look up is to slip down
through half a dimension
garrets tempt
a dusty seduction
flashing tiny, obscene windows
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment