Sometimes, after midnight
when I walk down
streets paved with houses
that hold their shadows close,
like they're shielding themselves
from the shaded whisper of a
jaded ghost,
I realise it's true
that the thoughts that the hooded sky
evokes
arc to a different velocity
under the bright light of the sun.
when I walk down
streets paved with houses
that hold their shadows close,
like they're shielding themselves
from the shaded whisper of a
jaded ghost,
I realise it's true
that the thoughts that the hooded sky
evokes
arc to a different velocity
under the bright light of the sun.
No comments:
Post a Comment