these thoughts are why i have no friends
Saturday
poem
an assassin of
the gloom night-
slit the sky
with her knife
before sunrise
short skirts, bruised knees
kissed by an angel
fresh rain hits the
fire that crackles on the yellow
moon
No comments:
Post a Comment
Newer Post
Older Post
Home
View mobile version
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment