doubt they will ever
be written, certainly
not this day, the
thirteenth of anniversary.
there will be reams, and ink
satined fingers, hair assunder,
wild eyes for the work. it is hotter,
we stick to linen
sheets. remember the words
from first, to last,
to write.
it will be a soliary task,
where no one enters,
consumes our tea.
the memoires may be written,
in the garden.
sbm.
Jul 13, 2013
Jul 13, 2013 at 12:37 AM UTC
doubt they will ever
be written, certainly
not this day, the
thirteenth of anniversary.
there will be reams, and ink
satined fingers, hair assunder,
wild eyes for the work. it is hotter,
we stick to linen
sheets. remember the words
from first, to last,
to write.
it will be a soliary task,
where no one enters,
consumes our tea.
the memoires may be written,
in the garden.
sbm.
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