Breathless Tales
Janet Chester-Bly
I would rather wait my turn in party clothes,
prim and proper, safe and clean.
But a pulsing hand keeps
driving me over peaks,
ravines and spidered brambles …
so that one day I will pant up to the
pearled gates,
tattered,
breathless,
and full of tales.
I would rather wait my turn in party clothes,
prim and proper, safe and clean.
But a pulsing hand keeps
driving me over peaks,
ravines and spidered brambles …
so that one day I will pant up to the
pearled gates,
tattered,
breathless,
and full of tales.
No comments:
Post a Comment