The Dance of the Wretched Hands.

Sleep is a waltz back to your arms.
Still you wait,
Across the black expanse.
Patient in the round,
Counting meter, marking time.
The Dance of the Wretched Hands.



Poetry by CJ Perrin
Read 830 times
Written on 2012-11-29 at 03:00

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shells
I agree with the other comments, beautiful, especially the opening line.
2012-11-30


Lilly Negoi
this is simply beautiful :).
one more or one less word and this would become imperfect.
2012-11-29


Nathalia
Beautiful.
2012-11-29