by Anne Gomez Huff
and so i asked you why, why, why couldn't you write for me... ...as if i were not worth the weight of a light haiku ...as if i did not engender scrawling on a foggy, milky winter window the constant rise and fall rise and fall rise and fall of your lungs was enough for me enough to get ink into the before inpenetrable cracks inbetween my fingertips and my pink skin writing, i would try and kiss you and kiss you and kiss you through my cursive and not writing, you would run dry a pen without blood flowing through its lonely plastic vein Send feedback to Grrowl! |