When I look at your poems
sprawled out on the page,
my eyes form constellations
out of periods and comets out of commas.
*Writing to rid yourself of the pain,
light shines through at the ending of each rhyme.*
Nov 5, 2013
Nov 5, 2013 at 11:38 PM UTC
When I look at your poems
sprawled out on the page,
my eyes form constellations
out of periods and comets out of commas.
*Writing to rid yourself of the pain,
light shines through at the ending of each rhyme.*
