Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Yuka Oiwa Jul 2012
Ears are closed shut
    shutters drawn no
    sound comes through to glance
    upon the floor.
She speaks
     every detail tangled in nets
     upon nets of
     sentences
dumping themselves on patient ears
though patient mouth is silenced.

When the lips can come through the
     wriggling words
    The voice can not
    penetrate the closed windows
    glancing off
    and falling into the sea.

The receiver slammed down
    a slap across the face
    miles away...
    she keeps talking.
Written February 2008. I'm still trying out different ways of formatting it and would love suggestions.

— The End —