Tonight, laying in our bed - feet beached in sheets, salt beads on our brows, salt beads on our cheeks - the thought again about leaving. It was fleeting, like the lighthouse beam that plays across the headland, plays across the bay. The beam that threads the walls of this charmed room is a silken … Continue reading A Thimble.
she wrote a poem once and, maybe deluded, i thought it was for me. she'd written nine hundred poems in her time, but this one was for me. i looked into her grayed eyes that day and they were like cameras to me. i looked at her lips and that night i heard the words … Continue reading like cameras to me.
I am the ghost. I am the breath of a ghost. I am a sigh. I am the blink of an eye. I am a dream. See these headlights and tail-lights? - I am the nothing between. I am the silence, the siren, The thought and the theme. I am the second hand, the minute, … Continue reading Never Been Seen.
nickreeves 