Friday, July 10

between the lines

a door without a bell
a knob 
or a handle
isn't to keep you outside
nor keep me within
you kept thinking
that i was in love with my silence
and i kept thinking
that you never wanted to come in


when did we become the wheel
that couldn't on stop its own will
nor take the turns it wanted
and when did this comfort of a road
turn into a railway incarceration of steel