Wednesday, February 10, 2010

Like corduroy

You see the lines run down his face
Like corduroy,
And you have to ask,
Whose plan went
So awry?
What dust has settled in that
Craggy landscape,
Debris from days and years of
Dreams built and broken?
Sighs from debts settled and
Words,
Too hastily spoken?
I asked him, I said,
Where have you been?
He whispered into my hair,
I walked down the street I lived on
And ended up right here.

peace,
rachel audrey

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