I wasn’t always here
From where I came, that silent country
Spoke by thought
We conversed by proximity
Dialogued with scent
And here, everything translates through
Mouth, an imperfect organ, that
Speaks only in terms of
Hunger
I wasn’t always here
From where I came, that silent country
Spoke by thought
We conversed by proximity
Dialogued with scent
And here, everything translates through
Mouth, an imperfect organ, that
Speaks only in terms of
Hunger
Comments (3)
love this!
might be the last piece for awhile… this nicotine patch makes it tough to write. =(
no worries, nothing will stop you –