Les Poemes, la Bohemenemity
Little tiny thoughts, distilled into prettier forms.
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
the utterly hopeless among us
morning comes through missing curtains
an arm strewn over
the restless machinations
of a mind dreaming in the body on my right
the its awaken
and play crepuscular games
we'll wait for hours to put into words
what other parts murmur succintly
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