He instinctively wrinkled around the corners of his eyes;
sunny orange of the curtains too bright, for his eyes, and him.
Nights, with their camouflaging neon lights, comforted him.
Days, with their consuming clarity, caricatured him.
He reluctantly tore himself apart from the remnants of night,
and looked hesitantly towards the remains of the day.
9 comments:
very, very nice. very nice.
thet wassnt me.
though i agree with that one also.
i'm lhauing it.
Thank you anonymous and the non-anonymous anonymous.(NAA)
Evidently, no one else concurs with you guys.
Sigh.
Aw.
Tumba chennagide boy.
u rite wel indeed.
Aww.
But you wrote that much against will, didn't you? It shows, for that's when one's spelngs go bad.
But still, so aww-ful.
Ai.
I was trying to be kewl and hip.
Obviously, that didn't pan out.
But I really did love it, Dougie.
hey, i'm totally dense about poetry!
just dropping in to say hey.
@Malaveeka - ok u r kewl and hip.
@Girl in pink - Me too! Don't know why i wrote this. Clueless.
I am primarily rant types ya.
These exercises in brevity happen very rarely.
And thank you. I personally like this one quite a bit.
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