"We hide behind sheets of words and sometimes find comfort on wearing them proudly. I have unbowed my bloody head with the things I have killed and revered what I have immortalized. I will continue to shield, maim, murder, pine, ponder and slave over the very words that force itself out of my body but leave its hand clutched on my still beating heart."

-Darrel Pobre

Thursday, June 21, 2012

Folded Napkins


There are skies that fold into napkins
stack under heavy porcelain plates.
Waiting for stars to beat their chest
and clouds to stammer help

No comments:

Post a Comment