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[sophiesback]

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Ahh, Poetess,You've come to my bedside once again.To brush my forehead lovingly.
To coo to me the soothing amaranthine song
I can often scarcely remember--even as I close my eyes very tight
asking the wind to remind me.

You've come to me again;
And all I have for you
is fat roaches scurrying across the berber carpet
Silent and still telephones
A

Comments

[anonymous]

i am sorry that you are so sad. i really connect with what you're saying about your relationship with the poetess... i feel a similar way about my wayward muse.

thank you for this beautiful view into you.

sincerely,
b