Saturday, 5 November 2016

dry wrists

around my wrists dry moisture of what was before

the smearing of ashes spread across your sky

i am deliberate in these words and i have forgotten 

how to be subtle in your vacant

eyes; remembering our canvas

on oil and knuckle sand.




 




preferred idle eyes

started creating paperback  tears out of idle pen hands,  and look where it took us. i've encountered space between us but I've blur...