The sun sets
over the tiger cages
of our childhood.
My brother
counts his teeth
and talks
about the girl
we were both
in love with.
He barely remembers her,
as an old scent
or melody
heard only once.
May 6, 2014
May 6, 2014 at 5:10 PM UTC
The sun sets
over the tiger cages
of our childhood.
My brother
counts his teeth
and talks
about the girl
we were both
in love with.
He barely remembers her,
as an old scent
or melody
heard only once.
