the inescapable seizure of the recent
for the leisure to unbelt,
to forget
and let
fall
To treat the minutes by their exterior.
If I were certain you were watching
the clamor of your eyes
weaving glances
To be seen and re-countable
free to let myself be taken
to be given by your awareness
to the point where the day and I both
starve into an evening
the two of us unravel.
No comments:
Post a Comment