
I dream of the kitchen cupboards
smashing against your head,
and I cannot stop smiling.
You, falling from me so forlorn,
as the wood connects with
that round shiny ball, your head.
Poetry | Stories | Photography
I dream of the kitchen cupboards
smashing against your head,
and I cannot stop smiling.
You, falling from me so forlorn,
as the wood connects with
that round shiny ball, your head.