Insomniaddict
what time was it when
we knew it was
in our hands
and it always was.
squeezed dry
out and in-between
ink jet fingers, at the
wee hours of slowly
drawn, wind bent, mornings.
posted by jstn at 11:53 p.m.
what time was it when
we knew it was
in our hands
and it always was.
squeezed dry
out and in-between
ink jet fingers, at the
wee hours of slowly
drawn, wind bent, mornings.
posted by jstn at 11:53 p.m.
2 Comments:
that last line is fantastic -- bravo
Is there any certain format that you use on your poems, or are most of them free-verse?
Brilliant.
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