Monday, August 24, 2015

Closing In

Thunder like it's not close.
He was here in the morning with a hot touch
then that man with the shiny suit sprung up the symphony, and that was it.
Then I feel the patters on the wall inside of me; And it's closer.
It's in my house, spilling out of my forgotten closets that aren't an afterthought anymore.
The storm is inside.
Where it always was...

No comments:

Post a Comment