Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Nov 2012
I'm only made of silk and sometimes I tear easily

It might be beautiful when I do, when I break

Elegantly, in private

Wake in the morning, half swept in fantasies

where my fingers have only touched those in dreams

the faces I could never kiss outside

I might even fall in love with you

no one taught me to read before I read.
(c) Brooke Otto
brooke
Written by
brooke
Please log in to view and add comments on poems