in the sweltering rain,
i stand defiant;
a tear-bead,
cradled in the curl of an eyelash.
no salt on my lips,
only the traces of
a grazing finger:
brushed so gently
against my cheek.
in the pouring sunlight,
it was the (brackets)
of loneliness,
that kept me from
melting; becoming an
incessant puddle,
that drips from your eye
2207
121108
No comments:
Post a Comment