Another lovely read by R.A.D. Stainforth...
I see myself
as
you might see me ―
move
room to rug,
dream
at each window,
make
note of my reflection
and
save it for later.
I
murmur sleep-talk,
say
only the most important words,
because
you know
enough
of the others,
to
understand me completely,
as
you do night trees
that
brush the same stretched sky ―
the
lucid winter sough.
tk/January 2013
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| image by Daniel Murtagh |
