May 24, 2007
Stuck Behind the Mirror
Letters sent to self
of slow roads and lanes stripped of colour;
fog smells of the shrunken world,
an envelope of haze.
The day weighs a ship above my head.
Kristiina: Poetry & Stories
Letters sent to self
of slow roads and lanes stripped of colour;
fog smells of the shrunken world,
an envelope of haze.
The day weighs a ship above my head.