When flinching away from a finger
Becomes giggling and tender touches-
No matter how short or pale
The moment is when standing
Beside what came next,
I’ll choose to harbour and fan
The memory of this small light
Till it’s flame devours the rest-
YOU ARE READING
The Secret Life of Thought
PoetrySometimes we don't say a word because our mind is too full of them. These pages hold just a few of those.
