slowly—
lamp in hand,
the faint glow of a dying fire
casting dying shadows on walls i know
would speak
if only they could,
i hold my breath as though in deep water,
looking underneath dusty furniture,
opening every drawer, every closet,
flinging all the curtains aside, sorting
through rotting garbage,
eyes wide open like round saucers,
one hand clutched over my breast
to quell an oncoming despair
yet never daring to
1 comment:
"switch
on
the
lights " kind of pause still works until now. And I still refuse to admit that unconsciously I'm ripping this off kung magpa "style2x" kos A.P.P.
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