i am sick
of conversation in light.
if i ask about the weather tell me about
the hurricanes behind your eyes
if i ask what time it is tell me about
the even you can't quite push out of your head
if i ask what you've been up to i want to hear
about what you do when you're alone,
in the hours their world is asleep,
what's in yours?
k.h.
ВЫ ЧИТАЕТЕ
the shade of flowers/poetry by k.h.
Поэзияthe edge of lucidity, rose tinted glasses and you, my dear.
