14.12.11 - unease
and i wake up to the sound of my own voice,
a cry, boxed and muffled,
a half-asleep trampled murmur still tangled up between.
and this soft moan feels like a stalwart protest
though it doesn’t even make the air flinch.
and i wake up to the sound of my own voice,
a cry, boxed and muffled,
a half-asleep trampled murmur still tangled up between.
and this soft moan feels like a stalwart protest
though it doesn’t even make the air flinch.