Poems from wildwise
she blinks, eyes blank.
crushed memories
shards of glassy dreams.
the bitter gall of disappointment chokes down her throat like thorns,
and...
what people said was never louder than the dialogue that colored my mind.
it is always there.
it always speaks without making a sound but...
at the frosty windowpane, a small fog of breath escapes the sanguine lips of a youthful, lonely lover.small drops of condensation form...
every three seconds, the faucet drips.
it makes a small plinking sound in the accumulated puddle.
there hasn't been anyone to turn it off...
fog: crawling
swirling
delicately settled
on the old mansions
and post-modern
skyscrapers.
early risers, with sleepy
eyes and steaming...