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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 h
ands and tugged me toward
a day too short for summer
Category: My Poetry | Added by: nbrayz (2010-10-20)
Views: 356 | Comments: 1 | Rating: 0.0/0
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