words
words
has there been so many spilled
that here i sit
without them
and nothing since i met you
is as it should be
take that as you will
the shrouded city sleeps restlessly tonight
sad
that you should illicit
any feeling now
any
thing
the snow falls upwards
the rivers run dry
for that is what is left
thinking of phrases that someone might like
someone other than me
and it still says nothing
says everything
looking into rippling water
