sometimes when my brain is congested, it coughs, and words come out.

rain will move things
around (and make them disappear)
little things
that you might not see
through a window;
all the lost petals
pink and
white
paper boats
and poems
i wrote for you
(and tossed out)
collecting somewhere
in a sewer grate.

  • 18 May 2013
  • 165