Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Feb 2017
9-5
You hide yourself in the corners
Of your desk, the soft bits tucked away
Behind your vest—
A downy, growling thing—
At five, your heart is stuttering
Towards the door
And the contours of your eyes
Are something close to opening.
Liz
Written by
Liz
348
   Lior Gavra
Please log in to view and add comments on poems