A Book Falls (By Cat Matchuk)
A book falls, I fall.
The proper thing to do is to pick it up, dust it off and hold it close to your heart.
Not me, not this time.
A book falls, I fall.
The proper thing to do is to pick it up, dust it off and hold it close to your heart.
Not me, not this time.
I can no longer tell if this shadow
hidden
somewhere deep
was created or always was. Continue reading “On the Edge”
There you were, frail and weak,
if I touched you, you were sure to fall apart.
I knew you were there, and I knew you were alive,
I could hear it from the beating of your heart.