.
Limbs aching to stretch,
Lips against frosted window,
My breathe forms a foggy film,
That briefest of canvasses.
I know you're saying something
............I'm busy watching wires zoom past
But I can't make out the words
............I think I left hope some miles back
............Dangling fragile and fickle from the nexus
............Before (almost) seeing it fall.
Tears trickle down the vapoured glass
Where I quickly squeaked my name
That is now short two letters, and still
I don't know why you're driving so fast.
.
No comments:
Post a Comment