Thursday, September 18, 2014

Seven thirty Seven

 words  spread
like butter on toast

 ... I still can hear
     without lips

 - stopped now
in the middle of a complete sentence

I pinch myself

 left here to end something
I don't know how to define



Whatever said...

and thirty seven seconds
a measure of a Woman


for the last breath
or thats what she said

zonedin said...

This is really lovely...and I feel similar to this. "This minute too is part of eternity" and what does it all mean? We try to get meaning using words and yet it can't be defined with words. But the words are a comfort still.

rivercat said...

thank you
even if things had no name they'd still be dear, like when a cat smells a flowar