Ordinarily the pleasantries overrule.
Tonight the posies on the window’s
sill move a little bit with the breath of
what’s coming in through the crack
in the corner of the glass. Oblivious, he
plants nails into the wallpaper surrounding
the living room windows – the dining room
is galaxies from his perception. The
posies wouldn’t know. Neither would
the crack in the glass. On the fireplace
mantel sits a vase that was blown at a
carnival in Pasadena. It has an audacious
green hue that knows that blues were made for
the living room windows – the dining room
is galaxies from his perception. The
posies wouldn’t know. Neither would
the crack in the glass. On the fireplace
mantel sits a vase that was blown at a
carnival in Pasadena. It has an audacious
green hue that knows that blues were made for
beckoning the night to come quick for mercy.
