coming in from the window
is telling
me all the things i wish
i didn't know.
how dusty the room is,
how dirty
the floor,
the unmade bed,
the cobwebs in the corner,
the dirty cups and saucers
set about.
the light tells all.
the fur of the dog,
and when i look into
the mirror
how quickly i've grown old.
No comments:
Post a Comment