Wednesday, January 5, 2005Spilled Coffee on White LinenBitter taste, dull the buds of my tongue, swirled restless. Your little spoon, poised on smiling lips, ever so watching. Worlds outside, passing armor, a traffic jam. Windows gleam, early morning sun, sparkle wet on table tops. My hands etched inky black print, smearing want ads. You and me, at the... Sign in to see full entry.posted by MiaElla at 4:54 PM Comments (7) (permalink) |
