December 2010
1 post
2 tags
Dream #1
You are an hour and 21 minutes
twelve seconds of eye contact
a brushed hip
I’d have stopped then been happy for that
and a kiss
now you’re folded in the blank pages of before, and before then
a plectrum of fictionalised fascination an infatuation
to pluck my own heartstrings to prove they’re still strung
but it’s okay because I’m dull and you’re...