Saturday, 28 June 2008

I. i cut myself to the sound of your voice

There’s a girl somewhere sitting in front of a cheap, slow

public library computer

noiseless snow

through the radiator

I realize there’s still a rose perched in my passenger


That I would see her

That I would meet

That I would greet

Her unprepared

There is silence when I speak

i forget i am more than a hummingbird

hovering above a rare plant

i try to remember, but i can’t

1 comment:

Ignus said...

I swear this is the only piece of writing I have done thus far that gets better every time I read it. I'd like to say it was thoughtfully created, but I chose the lines almost at random, picking the first line that came out at me that fitted (the poem is lifted from the worst teen-poems I could find on the internet).

Maybe if anyone asks in future I should tell them it was plain old inspiration. Yes... that sounds better.