This Smile

1 November 2012

was not brought to you by Facebook
curvature of the lips simultaneous
to a flicker of your looking
this warm spring morning
your hands never still
bring in the tide I can’t get
from one end of the house to the other
my shouts are blown back into my mouth.
the hills scalloping the horizon
this muslin shield is useless

I make myself porous to hold you in

This entry was posted in 40.0: INTERLOCUTOR and tagged . Bookmark the permalink.

Related Posts:

Please read Cordite's comments policy before joining the discussion.