I walk blindly through beauty.
I numbly touch its fur.
I exhale its fragrance.
To drift is to be sure.
My vision is cut short,
that of a pin,
sculpted,
chiseled,
cut down.
Brown is my vision,
defined by the words within.
between the two,
I am.
Stability in the binding,
the spine, I bend.
The cover, my beginning.
The back, my end.
Dec 10, 2018
Dec 10, 2018 at 9:23 PM UTC
I walk blindly through beauty.
I numbly touch its fur.
I exhale its fragrance.
To drift is to be sure.
My vision is cut short,
that of a pin,
sculpted,
chiseled,
cut down.
Brown is my vision,
defined by the words within.
between the two,
I am.
Stability in the binding,
the spine, I bend.
The cover, my beginning.
The back, my end.