Colin Walton
you’re sitting, quietly waiting for rice to cook I rinse milk out of its container she tells me she doesn’t like sugar and looks down on drugs I can’t recognize my own boundaries he doesn’t seem to care I graze my finger, but not hard enough to cut the sun is out but the heat won’t come two flowers have been hung up in the kitchen and their petals wilt I sift through the year for reasons not to leave
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
Archives
April 2018
Categories |