Slice

I slice the thick morning air with my fingers
I move on through the day
while you sit down and linger

I suck the mist, I lick the sunshine
I let my lips touch the tips of the dirty skyline
while you sit down and wait

It won't make no difference
we always got a second chance




Poetry by Elliott
Read 531 times
Written on 2006-12-30 at 23:07

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Rob Graber
I really like the sounds in this poem, especially the first two stanzas. Great to read aloud, with feeling!
2006-12-30