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 poemie

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PostSubject: poemie   Mon Mar 03, 2008 6:14 pm

Maps of the World

Sometimes the world is very small,
flat, wrinkled and yellow.
Everywhere Iíve been can fit under your thumb,
every house, ever line of sand where the world ends,
hidden from my eyes

I lie beside you in silence, knowing,
music floats from you like breathe, I feel you exhale like an accordion,
and there are only two nights left,
until you fall off the page
until I can place you on a map
but canít see you on the horizon
or under the covers



Also pimpin da website:
http://www.fictionpress.com/u/430441/
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PostSubject: Re: poemie   Mon Mar 03, 2008 6:22 pm

oh my god thats so frikkin sick. we should be studying you in english instead of gwen harwood!

*bows*
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PostSubject: Re: poemie   Mon Mar 03, 2008 6:31 pm

Awww thanks
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