cookie-cutter forms melting
with the despair of a middle-
aged sun in an epoch which
exhales both injunction and
exhaustion, the way punc-
tuated with river
weeds and regret,
tragedy filling up the edges.
This entry was posted on June 3, 2010 by joanna. It was filed under poetry, thoughts, writing and was tagged with individuality, personal, self.
Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:
You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. ( Log Out / Change )
You are commenting using your Twitter account. ( Log Out / Change )
You are commenting using your Facebook account. ( Log Out / Change )
You are commenting using your Google+ account. ( Log Out / Change )
Connecting to %s
Notify me of new comments via email.
Notify me of new posts via email.
There was an error retrieving images from Instagram. An attempt will be remade in a few minutes.
Blog at WordPress.com.