Tuesday, November 15, 2016

Allison Morris #15 'Sandcastle'

Parapets, balconies
turrets and terraces,
and damp sand creeping
under every fingernail,
into every skirt-fold
as a dream takes shape.

Maybe someone found it,
and gleefully turned to ruins
what they hadn't shaped.

Or maybe they just injured themselves
falling in our hole.

1 comment:

  1. I can feel the sandgrit creeping into my own dreams as I read. So tactile.


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