December 2011
71 posts
1 tag
What you were
You are a plain white sheet
Illuminated by the sun
I traced along the washing line, tugging at it
with a hooked finger, etched in it a throbbing splinter
I raced the wind that slithered through fields of dulling daisies
The wind that rang dissonant, rusted bells of the hut atop the hill
I raced along the washing line
The washing line on which the plain white sheet hung.
You are a plain...
When you're starving and your parents ask you what... →
“Each of us has heaven and hell in him.”
– Oscar Wilde (via raveningheart)
