Leave a comment

June 17, 2012 by mpe77

Powder pink morning
What should she wear?
How fast comes the door
Feet floor cold, steam rising
Water hot and running
Rising chills, sunny potential
Moderately cloudy mirror
Early dizzy waking
Still turning over light
First breath pure

Too soon

Drink and water this contraption
Somehow still magic like waking

Too soon

And in a bad condition
She wears the same clothes as
Yesterday follows her to the oncoming
Door opens on what it should
Be as the sphere turns over
Light, like warmth fed plants
In spring/summer state
Stuttering into this day
The same,
No glamour
No shrieking suspense
No make up
Come natural blemish
Like honor driven notion
To survive herself


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: