AllTheGhosts...

DREAM/ LO ST/ ART

Thursday, 30 July 2009

Fifty Odd Words No. 25

Evanescent whispers escape your voice. Electric whispers cut from promises yearn for a home. Your breath folds into me and slips through to my heart: it crumbles.

I touch a finger to your swollen lips.

Make them words I can trust.

No comments: