Tuesday, September 18, 2012
Breathing
White practice jerseys and shoulder pads outpaced my
stung lungs each season, I lagged heavyhearted.
So I learned the light patterns of my checkerboard
campus with a camera for companionship,
but black, knit flowers, in hovering lace swathed
her dress and me
—
I never could breathe.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Newer Post
Older Post
Home
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment