Friday, December 5, 2008

Untitled

Solitude is a ragged piece of cloth. 
Just enough to cover the sagging breasts of a moment. 
a moment going unclothed without a cry or a gasp. 
the night will drape it over her after she has slept. 
exhausted from beating her chest

3 comments:

tropical seagull said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Convercycle said...

Thought as it flows........

Good

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