at the edge of the bed,
thin curtains caught the sunlight,
it was all the silence
one room would hold.
She faced the window, tilted
with her back to me,
her honey comb hair
hanging over the branch of her neck.
She rose,
light filled the room,
it gushed over her books.
Feb 25, 2016
Feb 25, 2016 at 4:21 PM UTC
at the edge of the bed,
thin curtains caught the sunlight,
it was all the silence
one room would hold.
She faced the window, tilted
with her back to me,
her honey comb hair
hanging over the branch of her neck.
She rose,
light filled the room,
it gushed over her books.
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