Enervating.
Cold.
Hot.
Cold again.
Sore.
Draining.
Like falling into a quicksand in the desert night.
Dizzy as though a scorpion stung you in the throat.
Devoiced.
Losing my train of thought as though the bridge is gone
And the break is broken, going down.
Down.
Wren
No comments:
Post a Comment