in quiet postcards my mind is a pool of green
the oblivion of remembering
her
when she is here for me to see.
a pool of green forgetting
like a fog
lost in shipwrecks
a violin strung with veins
in my mind
is being played.
------------------
The world has become an auqarium full of gaping fish with murderous smiles,
I on the other hand stand on the outside looking in writing down murderous files.
-j.m.t.
the oblivion of remembering
her
when she is here for me to see.
a pool of green forgetting
like a fog
lost in shipwrecks
a violin strung with veins
in my mind
is being played.
------------------
The world has become an auqarium full of gaping fish with murderous smiles,
I on the other hand stand on the outside looking in writing down murderous files.
-j.m.t.
