Thursday, 30 April 2015

readers help writers

How and why? Did a part of me die? The madness in my art described the sadness in my heart. Then someone walked by. The circling of my toe inscribed a path inside the snow. They told me about the sky, and how to use that space. My teeth were misaligned, you saw them in my face. Then the kittens came, a-crying for some milk. I went to find some sweet cream, I found it in a dream. The readers read my mind. I signed their hearts, with love. A part of me was healed. The message was not mine, the envelope was sealed. It came from up above. I told them about the sky, and how to use that space. Some fled, some stayed. They stayed with me, in grace.

author. city cemetery.

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