Water, condensed on the windows
Like all the hopes in your gut that
Never were released. Outside people
Walk through the oppressiveness
Intent on the busyness of their lives.
A small flame flickers waiting
To burn off the sludge.
Water, condensed on the windows
Like all the hopes in your gut that
Never were released. Outside people
Walk through the oppressiveness
Intent on the busyness of their lives.
A small flame flickers waiting
To burn off the sludge.
wondering if the image was first or the words… anyway..really like how this develops… all the hopes that never were released… felt..
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Thanks, Claudia. Actually, I was looking out this window when the thought came to me so it was collaborative.
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All the hopes. Yes, oh yes.
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Thanks for reading, Lisa.
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