Friday, September 7, 2012

Words. We were walking on
The shore. Wet fogged sand packed 
our lips. Now 
we know how Winters 
war wills to Be. Like 
hell 
you Say. Words walking 
from Your mouth. Un 
moving after rigor set in. But 
still We hear. Like the native
Pulse. The suns rays
and even
The rain. 

2 comments:

brtom said...

I've been missing these ... been away from my aggregator which is my connection to your blog here. I like these recent ones very much. Thank you.

ms said...

i have not been writing here and i thought only i knew that. i appreciate that you take the time and any feedback is appreciated

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