2010
01.02
01.02
In the night when poems
are born, I search for the hidden words,
secrets stretch inside my metaphors.
Even near my tender moments
when the images blossom into rain flowers
I trip on stems cut my way loose to nowhere.
I go there to see what I can find.
New piece posted!: I Trip on my Poems http://amphibi.us/all/i-trip-on-my-poems/