Saturday, July 3, 2010

I am peering through my lens; I have no other; I cannot help it.

I am feeling through my gauze; My senses bruised peach; Sweet.

I am tasting on my tongue an aged blood tinged liquor; The Bottle

Reads the year and states the name.

Through lowered eyes I can see my smile; The Blue on the roof.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

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