I close my eyes, and I can see it --
the intangible scribble-scrabble
which like the dust enveloping Pig-Pen
floats in my head,
constantly in motion.
There is music behind it, too--
a cacophony of sound bites,
every moment I've tried to forget.
They repeat, and layer, and repeat,
syncopated by my regret.
No comments:
Post a Comment