Sooth say
A heavy stone skimming across a mill-pond. The sound of half a duck quacking.
Thursday, August 09, 2012
On the Surface
You skimmed the world across my pond
And counted every ripple
Till even the last one found my crinkled edges
And died
I like you
Not because of who you are
But because of where you were
So you could be who you are
To me.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Newer Post
Older Post
Home
No comments:
Post a Comment