Friday, March 18, 2011

Outside a Kebap Shop.

The tomatoes looked
like February,
last remnants of
colors past.
Reflections of
glistening promises
in eyes so aware
of their emptiness.

Tuned.

I want to slip into
a song

cuddle up with
a melody

go to sleep with
a beat

and find comfort
note by note

and sing along
and sing
alone.