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Linnea Haukbjørk
Poems
Oct 2013
spark
I used to see
words
in a golden
drop of water
in the sound of
falling leaves
in the arms of solitude
the words are still
there, but not
to me
all I find is
emptiness
it runs
through my fingers
it all ends up
in a puddle
on the floor
and I'm in too deep
to know whether it's
blood or tears or gasoline
there's only one way
to find out now
*pass me a match
Written by
Linnea Haukbjørk
Salt Lake City
(Salt Lake City)
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