You are the last sliver of light
my rods and cones can find
a chill clings on the shoulders of an iron clad morning
perfume she put on trailed behind for days
as the globe turned a maimed face away
from the heat of it's helium lover.
Jan 20, 2013
Jan 20, 2013 at 11:45 PM UTC
You are the last sliver of light
my rods and cones can find
a chill clings on the shoulders of an iron clad morning
perfume she put on trailed behind for days
as the globe turned a maimed face away
from the heat of it's helium lover.
I'm not sure what else this needs, but it probably needs something. I'm open for suggestions, or anything really.
