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#professionl
This lack of Professional identity. wakes me too soon, With the dawn moon. The building tones on a single stone note, Like blood through ears. Overlooked, but for the silence Of time unbooked. I go stumbling into a different fame. Where smaller applause lulls me, Like crumbling brickwork, The flashing indented, Re-invenited, Like ancient sea rocks, Soft to the shells of clinging creatures And the feathers of gulls.
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Dec 24, 2018
Dec 24, 2018 at 5:56 AM UTC
SallyDawnIbbotson
ID
This lack of Professional identity. wakes me too soon, With the dawn moon. The building tones on a single stone note, Like blood through ears. Overlooked, but for the silence Of time unbooked. I go stumbling into a different fame. Where smaller applause lulls me, Like crumbling brickwork, The flashing indented, Re-invenited, Like ancient sea rocks, Soft to the shells of clinging creatures And the feathers of gulls.
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