Feb 2016
Your love rains down
from the shower head.
Sharp needles of fire
dousing cold feet.
It feels like daggers,
and wouldn't be so,
if I hadn't lingered for so long,
in my frigid hesitancy.
from the shower head.
Sharp needles of fire
dousing cold feet.
It feels like daggers,
and wouldn't be so,
if I hadn't lingered for so long,
in my frigid hesitancy.
I've been reading "Coney Island of the Mind" by Lawrence Ferlinghetti. Part of the jazz-inspired Beat generation, his writings are incredibly experimental and diverse. Definitely check him out if you haven't.
