It's not the lead hand,
it's not the clothes,
the floor,
you.
I just wait around as we fall.
Sometimes the harder the pain
the broken decides.
It's not the caress affection,
it's not emptiness,
your desire in bed,
the world.
Touch, satisfy your body.
Sometimes the harder the pain
the broken decides.
Sometimes the harder the pain
the broken decides.
Sometimes the harder the pain
the broken decides.
Sometimes the harder the pain
the broken decides.
Sometimes the harder the pain
the broken decides.
Saturday, January 8, 2011
Poem-A-Day: Day 422
Sometimes
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment
Drop a line, a quip, a snippet, your pants, or an anecdote...just don't drop the soap.