Wednesday 8 June 2016

Contoured Eyelashes

Contoured eyelashes tug at the sky
Clouds turn to dust in the blink of an eye

Vacant stares, they cost you your life
They sour your bones, cut like a knife. 

Burn marks and inks are not who you are
Corrigibility is not a long road afar

Time is our music and time is our noise
We are its author; We are its toys