Author: D. Brayz
He said, two thumbs twiddling wildflowers
with knees pressed against
a red bench, overlooking a dry lake...
and i shrugged
twirled my hair and fluttered eyelashes
he complained were too long, too distracting;
a tilt of head, an insincere apology
before he rose
pressed petals on her living grave, brushed dirt
from my hands and tugged me toward
a day too short for summer
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| Category: My Poetry | Added by: nbrayz (2010-10-20)
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| Views: 716 | Comments: 1
| Rating: 0.0/0 |
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