hollow eyes
on the flip-side
of green
almost conversational
there within the tunnel of light
from the
strangest
depth
like a slant in her walk
a repeat nitch
in the brain waves
of unfolded experience
words are plucked
two at a time
from the darkest of depth
thin as tissue paper
flowing like sepia tones
of faded photos
cut from angles
vintage secrets washed in brilliance
tightly pressed
between eyes of a dreamer
uncomfortable in descriptions
transition of days
fall quietly
unfinished behind heavy eyelids
moments of color
suddenly different
a creation of destiny
pinned to silence
it just becomes…
7/31/08
Silver trophy winner
Honorable mention
Adding your comment:
