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marie-vaughnPoems
A mirror playing a silent motion picture that Is alluring simply for the wonder it creates Whispering Secret messages only to those who know how To listen to nothing at all. So often I find my pen moving on its own Without consulting the muscles that Propel it forward. Like the way my ears ring when I see you Smile at nothing at all No Specifically something else that Invisible to my eyes Mocks me from across the room Visions of the insane or Simply driven by the Unknowable Unspeakable Yet painful. I don't understand why my words Get hung up like clothes lines After a summer storm Dripping with precipitation And glittering But tangled just the same.
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Feb 21, 2013
Feb 21, 2013 at 12:14 AM UTC
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A mirror playing a silent motion picture that Is alluring simply for the wonder it creates Whispering Secret messages only to those who know how To listen to nothing at all. So often I find my pen moving on its own Without consulting the muscles that Propel it forward. Like the way my ears ring when I see you Smile at nothing at all No Specifically something else that Invisible to my eyes Mocks me from across the room Visions of the insane or Simply driven by the Unknowable Unspeakable Yet painful. I don't understand why my words Get hung up like clothes lines After a summer storm Dripping with precipitation And glittering But tangled just the same.
marie-vaughn
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marie-vaughn
Feb 21, 2013
Feb 21, 2013 at 12:14 AM UTC
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