sifts
Where she sleeps
the smoke billows.
Under her bed
it froths like
cappuccino.
Her delicate skin
and a down pillow;
she’s coddled tight.
She is new lungs
and new life.
Short spoken
just nice-
but just right.
*I was really sick yesterday. Sorry for being sick and not publishing anything. Here’s another piece from a few months ago. Have fun. I’m listening to Wintersleep today with the flu and it’s so good.
you’re poems are so amazing!
i don’t know how you come up with so many moving words that flow together perfectly..
btw,
Wintersleep rock!!