deepundergroundpoetry.com

six weeks

rorschach blood print
cold sculpted
in the silence and the pause
i touch nothing.

i touch nothing

sleep like the living
curled into irony
short-circuiting

less

i touch

sad fingertips
flee the scene
rain falls



-exeunt
Written by anna_grin (ANNAN)
Published | Edited 14th Jun 2015
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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