lunes, 9 de abril de 2012

Sewer walking

You and me, we used to talk

like a river underground

the sewer where we used to walk.

The hole at the end empties out to the pier

where paper boats disappear.

Me, I try to send this note,

float it like a paper boat,

but paper sinks and words are weak.

I try but I don't speak.


(from Grace, though she doesn't want anybody to know)

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