orgami's Diaryland Diary

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haunted greyscale...

ugly and plain
with beautiful eyes
a gift
a voice for a trickster
in the pauses
you can feel the stillness
hear the clock ticking
the beat of the heart
in the soft
linen shirt
with faux pearl button

the perfume
and hairspray

a racehorse
running
restless

always arrives
to sniff the
wilds on where
Ive wandered
listen to my
stories in monotone
like an al night radio
host from the edge
of the crazylands

faultlines
like a hand full
of lovelines
and life lines
tethered
as the moon
rising
and falling
in its cycles

its heydays
and emptiness
so quiet
you can smell
the soil
in the heat
of the hour

..

11:01 p.m. - 2015-02-02

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