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By distant moon Date: 2001 Nov 15 Comment on this Work [[2001.11.15.13.49.19601]] |
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I gathered up all the remains, bundled them in twine and wrapped the lingering feelings in some old Christmas paper. Still taped and torn. Small slivers of sparkle broke through the storm, formed in the confines of my fingers, shedding light on the creases. I looked beyond the recital. I released the bunch into the black, suction of the Glad bag. Tied then thrown out. All the good, along with the complaisant, trash to be taken out by my dreams. |