Wednesday, September 3, 2014

Stick to Walls

Sounds like the crunching of autumn leaves under heavy heels in an expansive field.
Looks like  the wicked gleam of a raven feather.
Feels like  an idea kicking from the inside, fighting to get out.
Smells like   the woods.
Tastes like   lungs breathing a mix of fire, smoke & ash.

"I am a fire escape; my spine is made of iron, my heart pumps out old red paint." 

1 comment:

Go with grace.