A Linage of Pessimists
It is not what goes in one ear and out the other
but rather what takes place between the two ears.
toes tangled between cold sheets he kissed her slowly awaiting a reply from her lips he watched them not twitching, not moving, not twisting he kissed her once more awaiting a reply from her eyes he watched them not blinking, not rolling, not tracing.
he sat at the edge of his bed feeling the static run from her body through the sheets and up his spine, the mattress moaned as she cleared her throat,
"No one is laughing at God".
Art By: Unknown
Poetry By: I.E.L
No comments:
Post a Comment