Remington

rollings
rollings unknown Posts: 7,127
edited October 2012 in Poetry, Prose, Music & Art
I am the ghost of you crying down the hall
crying out and crying to then gathering the difference
The difference not the distance of theirs too
two is not ours between nor to gather me and you are two
roaming to steal reminds me that certain words (like all of them)
stand a chance to touch what I once knew when I didn't know anything at all
you carried what was me on a plank of my own and blindness
but then mast fell drooped and vast in a sea of pithy
remington
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