skin and lips
hard pressed
lines in groove
life prints
mark a move
 a fold faces  …
he traces my curves
and fingers the shot straight to my nerves
gun-shy children
in my eyes
lost, broken
blood stained face
three more shots struck down
around skies panic
whispers fade nine lives 
the clumsy and stupid
people’s souls
, brain dead
reboot again
leaving notes for who knows who
childhood memories
i want to hold you
but what we seek
has been erased
Packets of sugar
Dust motes of vanishing hope
Pocket filled lint of Fate



Leave a Comment ;)

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.