Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jul 2016
I want to go home, all of this slipping around
feels like wobbly knees and ice skates
fate is pressed in a book whose prologue reads,
it'll get you there
to think that this volume is caged under
the slab of frozen rink
inspires more homesickness,
and my eyes blink and blink

-c.j.
smallhands
Written by
smallhands
253
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems