evening: low again


fragile, the strands that you pull
out of my hands and dance, carefree
as if all you needed was this spring
but I am reduced to a sigh that
breaks free, from my chest but I
fall down again and sigh again
I really don’t want to cry again
For the evening, quieter than a sob
pours in through the dirty window
yellow, and mellow, and low again
I think the world’s getting slow again
when fingertips feel the soft heart beat
I dread we are going to die again…


Add yours →

  1. Gentle yet poignant; lingers after the last word. đŸ™‚

  2. soft, an ending, open to something more-a moment of wonder in time.

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The story doesn't ever end....

[hidden void photography]

pictures[ ]prose[ ]flashes of awe

Patterns from Nature

Finding the beauty in every day life.

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