Pretentious
you stumble, heeding
terra cotta voices and
the sigh of broken chimes.
Disbelieving
you fall,
a sybil breathing rime-
for visions have a price
and you too must taste the salt.
Flounder
my pretty,
for time has bought your emnity
The blossom of your beauty
a weathervane of trust.
Dec 24, 2011
Dec 24, 2011 at 1:47 AM UTC
Pretentious
you stumble, heeding
terra cotta voices and
the sigh of broken chimes.
Disbelieving
you fall,
a sybil breathing rime-
for visions have a price
and you too must taste the salt.
Flounder
my pretty,
for time has bought your emnity
The blossom of your beauty
a weathervane of trust.