Thumb-size cottonballs float,
Q-tip teardrops flick fast from high,
Through grey morning open eye.
Humble blanket warmly awaits the touch.
Nothing sticks, that time is yet to come...
Weeping, seeping, oozing hot from fever wound remembered.
Asciepius scalpel held ready....
Another scaring scar?
Naja coils to strike, somber slumber,
Niki's wings of knowing is nearer than we know.
5 comments:
Wow my dear, how heartwrenching!
There you are!
Sometimes staying in touch isn't easy, but I try.
I'm writing from the farside, westcoast chain of blue memories of SanFransisco in the late 60's and early 70's.
Hi honey, I love your westcoast chain of blue memories! I'm having a crazy day so I sneak out here to get some grounding and make sense of this world of technology I work in...lol. I love for human connection even as I key connection on a screen...smoochez.
that didn't make sense - I mean to say I long for human connection even as I key on this computer.
A mind meld...I was writing a poem to post useing an old photo of a kid peeking out of a screen door.
It was about missing friends and being afraid of going outside. Lost the post and the poem to computer problems.
Thanks for the smooch, I needed it.
Now I must drive to town and get water.
Love ya.
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